


if time stands still, move i will to you

by aestheticzjm



Category: One Direction (Band), zayn malik - Fandom
Genre: (ik i'm sorry), ......yes?, Angst, Canon Compliant, Domesticity, Flashbacks, Fluff, M/M, Smut, Time Skips, True Luv, Unresolved Feelings, but also drama, i'm honestly shameless at this point, is this a 43k ziall fic written in 2020, post-zayn leaving fic, tooth-rotting amounts of fluff, uhhhhh, z's family is mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-06
Updated: 2020-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:08:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 43,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23036026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aestheticzjm/pseuds/aestheticzjm
Summary: They stared at each other for a few moments, the air between them charged with tension, before Niall finally relented, mirroring Zayn’s actions from earlier and lifting his shoulders in a shrug.“You left the band, Zayn. You left us, you left…” Niall’s voice trembled, unable to help the way that his throat quivered with his words, his eyes flickering up to meet the other man’s gaze. “You left me.”— or the one in which niall and zayn reconnect after four years of radio silence and things have changed.
Relationships: Niall Horan/Zayn Malik
Comments: 23
Kudos: 128





	if time stands still, move i will to you

**Author's Note:**

> "until the flower of this love has blossomed, this heart won't be at peace." — z.m. 
> 
> *incoherent screaming* this fic is ENTIRELY self-indulgent and i'm so sorry about that. it's something that's been in the works for a while now, and i'm aware that literally nobody reads ziall anymore but if one person appreciates this fic, then that would be totally cool with me. :-) :-) i’m sorry i’m aware that i repeat this (^^^^) on all of my fics at this point but i just feel guilty that one of the few ppl keeping ziall fics alive on ao3 is such a dismal writer i apologize for that hsdfjsfkljn :-( 
> 
> please find attached a collection of songs from zayn and niall's discographies that make me think of the other person if you'd like some mood music while reading lol. :,,) 
> 
> i. stand still — z.m.  
> ii. flicker — n.h.  
> iii. satisfaction — z.m.  
> iv. too much to ask — n.h.  
> v. blue — z.m.  
> vi. since we're alone — n.h.  
> vii. insomnia — z.m.  
> viii. paper houses — n.h.  
> ix. fingers — z.m.

**unknown number:** _happy birthday :) x_

Niall’s eyebrows furrowed down into a frown, the black lettering across his phone screen practically blurring together as he reread the message. Although the number wasn’t saved on his phone, the accompanying smiley and kiss left no doubt in his mind as to who the message was from, almost as if it was a signature etched into the back of his brain. Flashes of raven hair, hazel-hued eyes and intricate swirls of ink flitted through his thoughts, and Niall had to force his eyes shut so rapidly that it made his head spin. The feeling of hollowness that resided deep in his chest, the one he’d manage to convince himself no longer existed, suddenly felt as if it had reemerged with a vengeance, knocking the breath out of him and throwing his axis of balance entirely off kilter. 

Perhaps he could blame the overreaction on the few drinks he’d consumed during his birthday bar crawl, something that no longer satisfied him the way it did when he was younger; but he knew it was more than that, the single text message instantly bringing up memories that he desperately wished he was able to forget. Niall quickly saved the number to his phone, despite the fact that it would undoubtedly be changed within a couple of days. His fingers flew across the keyboard, distractedly attempting to convince himself that a mere reply would be harmless.

 **Niall:** _Thanks bro !_

 **Zayn:** _miss you x_

 **Zayn:** _maybe we could meet sometime_

 **Zayn:** _message me the next time that you’re in la ?_

Niall stared at the messages, all of which came in quick succession, arriving only mere moments after Niall’s reply. His head raised almost as if on command, the hotel room’s pale curtains parted to reveal the distant letters of the Hollywood sign, the white letters practically glowing beneath the pale moonlight. He averted his gaze back to his phone, the open message thread with Zayn almost mocking him, the _miss you x_ appearing to him as if the words were printed on a neon sign rather than miniature black letters across a phone screen.

He hadn’t come face-to-face with the older man for more than a few years now, and the thought of seeing him again was entirely too overwhelming yet simultaneously was not nearly enough. It would have been so easy for him to lie, to say that he wasn’t going to be in Los Angeles anytime soon, to act as if he wasn’t currently in the same city as the other man, likely only a few miles away from wherever he was staying. Instead, he found his fingers typing before his head had managed to catch up, deciding that he could regret his actions in the morning, when the weight of his hangover could be further burdened by his guilt.

 **Niall:** _I’m actually in LA right now .. doing some promo for the new album ._

 **Zayn:** _are you doing anything for your birthday later on today ?_

 **Zayn:** _probably too busy to meet i’m guessing?_

 **Niall:** _No no_

 **Niall:** _I’m free ._

 **Zayn:** _sick ! i’ll text you the whereabouts :) x_

The address that Zayn sent him was one of his own houses, near the outskirts of Los Angeles, an address he recognized because he’d seen it before on some seedy celebrity news site. It was exactly the kind of place that he could see Zayn at, lavish and excessive, but still a sizeable distance away from the unavoidable hustle and bustle of Los Angeles that Niall had grown to become accustomed to. It was late, nearing two a.m., and Niall found his eyes growing increasingly heavily, his mind swirling with thoughts that he was barely able to comprehend.

He set his phone off to the other side of the king-sized bed, tucking himself beneath the thick comforter scented like clean linen, the scent reminding him of their early days in the band, when they’d travel from hotel to hotel and the only constant would be the neatly pressed sheets on their beds every night. Another constant would be Zayn’s lithe figure hovering near his doorway, quietly asking if he could sleep in Niall’s bed on nights when it seemed like the world was far too large for them. Niall shut his eyes tight, the sleep that had previously been nipping at his heels suddenly feeling as if it’d disappeared completely.

— *✲ﾟ*｡✧ — 

Niall’s fingers ran through his styled-up hair, his foot tapping absently against the ground as he stared at the mahogany door in front of him. If anyone had told him that he’d be _here_ , standing outside of Zayn’s house, he would have never believed them. When the older man left, it felt as if things were final, as if their fate had been written in the stars; but now it seemed as if the future was rewriting itself with a single text message, and Niall was not quite sure how to feel about it. And then the door was opened, Zayn standing on the other side.

“Hey,” The older man greeted, slight smile finding his lips. His hair looked soft to the touch, obviously devoid of any products, shorter than the last time Niall’d seen it, and the urge to reach out and _touch_ was almost overwhelming. “Happy birthday.”

“Thanks,” Niall managed, hoping his voice didn’t betray just how overcome with emotion he truly was. It’d been years since he’d been this close to the other man; now, he was barely a foot away, and Zayn still had the same soft smile that used to send butterflies fluttering through his entire stomach. Niall inhaled sharply through his nose, forcing the thought out of his head.

“Come in, then,” Zayn said, opening the door wider to let Niall in. It felt a little bit odd to be stepping into the older man’s living space, a stark contrast to the way that they had once practically lived in each other’s pockets. “D’you want anything to drink?” Zayn asked softly, standing behind the brunette as he toed off his shoes, his sneakers completely out of place next to the row of Zayn’s neatly lined up Doc-Martens.

“Just some water, thanks,” Niall replied, turning to find Zayn considerably closer than he was before, so close that he could practically count the older man’s eyelashes. “It’s really good to see you, Niall,” He murmured, reaching forward to ghost his fingers along Niall’s inner forearm, the brunette sucking in a breath at the bloom of warmth in his chest. 

With that, the taller man turned around, making his way deeper into the house, presumably towards his kitchen. A breath that Niall didn’t know he was holding escaped his lips, shaking his head lightly to clear his thoughts. He had to will himself to remember that this wasn’t four years ago, that circumstances had changed and that their relationship was no longer what it once was.

He sighed softly, making his way down the hallway into the living room, gaze wandering around the interior of the house. The house was stunning; it was obvious that Zayn had done the floorplan himself, minimalistic yet somehow still exquisite. It was the opposite of Niall’s own flat back in London, which had already been furnished when he bought it, the designing process one that he’d remained completely detached from. Niall’s gaze settled on the few framed photographs that were placed on the table beneath Zayn’s television, taking his lower lip in between his teeth at an image of the five of them, on stage at one of their concerts. Zayn had his arm wrapped around Niall’s shoulders and they looked genuinely _happy_ , the bright stage lights not deterring their smiles in the slightest.

Niall was over it, had been for years now. But seeing Zayn again was bringing back feelings that he’d managed to keep supressed for _so_ long, and he didn’t have any of the other boys by his side this time to help him deal with it. He was twenty-six years old now, no longer the same seventeen year old that he once was. He had to learn how to deal with his own issues, even if his current biggest issue was a twenty-six year old man with the warmest eyes. 

“It’s a nice picture, innit?” Zayn’s voice suddenly appeared from behind him, but Niall didn’t take his eyes off of the photograph, merely bobbing his head in response. “It is,” He agreed, shifting slightly so that he could meet the other’s eyes, taking the glass from him and raising it to his lips to take a sip.

“Why aren’t you doing anything for your birthday?” Zayn questioned, eyes tracking Niall’s movements as the brunette set the half-empty glass down onto a small side table. “Went to a few pubs last night with a couple of friends. Getting too old for parties and that,” Niall admitted, a self-depreciating accompanying his words. Zayn hummed in agreement, a smile ghosting his lips.

“I’m sorry, like, didn’t have time to get you anything. Wasn’t really expecting you to reply, if I’m being honest.” Zayn said, pointedly avoiding the other’s gaze as he fiddled with one of the other framed photographs, an image of Zayn and Gigi, from what he could see. The picture was enough to bring Niall back down to Earth, to remind him that Zayn no longer felt the same way that he might have in the past. “I couldn’t say that I was expecting a message either,” Niall replied, eyebrows raised slightly.

“I know, I just…” The raven-haired man paused, setting the photograph back onto the table, adjusting it so that it was in line with the rest of the pictures. It was a polaroid of Zayn and Gigi on a beach somewhere, both of them sporting matching grins, heads tilted towards the camera. Niall couldn’t help but wonder whether Zayn’s smile in the photograph on stage was fake, considering just how genuinely content he looked with Gigi; the smiles that he used to receive were never nearly as bright. “I dunno, we hadn’t talked in a while, so I thought I’d send you a message for your birthday.” Zayn fumbled with his words, shrugging as if he knew they sounded paper thin, even to his own ears.

“Is that it?” Niall chuckled humourlessly, gaze blank as he stared at the other man. _You haven’t spoken to me in years, Zayn. You can’t just contact me when you want me back in your life again. It doesn’t work that way._ Although the words remained unspoken, Niall could tell that the other man was aware of what he was thinking, his cold tone enough of an indication that he was unsatisfied with the other’s explanation.

“What do you want me to say?” Zayn murmured, his tone more tired than defensive. “I don’t know, Zayn.” Niall replied honestly, already feeling a bit worn out himself from the interaction.

“Do you really want to get into this now?” The older man questioned, eyebrows knitted down into a soft frown, tension obvious in his stance. Niall _knew_ Zayn, knew that he tended to avoid conflict if it was an option, the kind of person that was willing to look past anything if he felt that someone hadn’t personally wronged him. It was far too easy to pretend in front of the cameras, to claim that they were amiable, that they were still in touch with each other. Easy to shake each other’s hands during an awards show, as if it wasn’t the first time that their eyes had met since Zayn had left. Niall _wasn’t_ the kind of person to avoid conflict, because he had learnt the importance of communication early on, a skill that Zayn had never quite managed to master. “What else are we supposed to do, Z? Why else did you invite me here? Did you really think we were just going to gloss over what happened?”

“Then go ahead and talk, Niall. I still don’t know what you want me to say,” There was a slight edge of defiance clinging to his words now, his tone resembling one that Niall would occasionally hear when the older man would shut himself off in his bunk, tiredly arguing with Perrie about whatever issue had managed to spring up between them that week. They stared at each other for a few moments, the air between them charged with tension, before Niall finally relented, mirroring Zayn’s actions from earlier and lifting his shoulders in a shrug.

“You left the band, Zayn. You left us, you left…” Niall’s voice trembled, unable to help the way that his throat quivered with his words, his eyes flickering up to meet the other man’s gaze. “You left _me_.”

Zayn’s expression softened, minutely shaking his head as if to refute the comment. Regardless, it was regrettably true, completely beyond either of the boys’ control by this point. “I didn’t mean for things to go like this, Niall, I’m sorry.”

“Well, we were going to have to this conversation at some point.” Niall said in response, absently shoving his hands into his pockets as he chewed down on his lower lip. There was a brief silence as Zayn kept his gaze on the ground, as if he was contemplating whether or not to speak.

“I’m… I’m not going to apologize for leaving the band, Niall. I put my mental health first for once and I’m not going to pretend like it wasn’t the right thing to do. You can’t deny that I was looked at differently from the rest of you. Constantly being told that I wasn’t following my own religion properly, then being told that I was a monster for believing in a faith that was supposedly oppressing millions of people and being called a terrorist every single day online. It was blatant racism, and everyone acted as if it wasn’t happening to me when it so obviously was.”

Niall averted his gaze to the ground, eyebrows furrowed down. “We were all so young, Zayn. We didn’t have the first clue how to deal with _any_ of that, and I know it’s not an excuse but—”

“That’s the thing though, Niall,” Zayn cut him off, tone frustrated. “We were all so young and we were taken advantage of. It may not have seemed like it at the time, but we were overworked to within an inch of our lives and everybody around us acted like it was normal when it clearly _wasn’t_.”

“It wasn’t the fact that you left, Zayn,” Niall said, shaking his head slightly. “It was the way that you did it. You completely disappeared on us. We started seeing pictures of you with Shahid, and none of us were even aware that you were spending time at the studio—we had to find out on goddamned Twitter, of all places. It was like we had been completely left out of the loop.”

“Wouldn’t have had to spend any time at the studio if one of my songs had made it on the album.” Zayn murmured ruefully, a dark chuckle accompanying the soft-spoken words. Niall felt a twinge of guilt prick him, recalling the way that Zayn’s face had fallen when the track-list of _Four_ was revealed, with none of Zayn’s songs chosen, while practically every other track had been co-written by Louis and Liam. He still remembered, with surprising clarity, what Julian had said to Zayn that day; _Sorry man, but this just isn’t One Direction’s style._ Niall thought that it was utter bullshit, because Zayn probably had more talent than the four of them combined—but he didn’t say anything when he had the chance to. If he had, then maybe Zayn would have still been with them; maybe this wouldn’t be the first time that the two had spoken to each other in four years, looking at each other like complete strangers despite the fact that they had once known each other inside out.

It was as if everything in Niall’s mind became startingly clear to him at that moment. He leaned forward, not at all slowly, and connected their lips together into a fervent kiss. It was an impulsive decision, one that he most definitely should have thought about first, but Niall’s worries dissipated as Zayn stepped closer, cupping Niall’s face in his hands. The older man kissed him back like a promise, deep and unhurried in a way that was so distinctly _Zayn._

Niall pulled away once the hammering of his heart felt as if it was loud enough for Zayn to hear, staring at the raven-haired man, eyes wide. “Gigi,” Niall started unsurely, because he was still uncertain as to what exactly their deal was; Zayn simply shook his head. “We called it quits, like, a while ago. Said I came with more baggage than she could handle.” The older man paused, staring at Niall in a way that made him feel completely exposed, as if Zayn could hear the jumble of thoughts in his head. “I think you could handle it, though. I think that maybe you were meant to handle it.”

The words made Niall’s head spin. When they were in the band, they had danced around this _thing_ for four years. It flowed throughout them, in Niall’s gaze when his eyes would linger on Zayn’s lips for a fraction of a second too long, in Zayn’s fingertips when he would distractedly brush his fingers through the younger’s hair, in the blurry lines between their bodies when they’d share a bed despite having separate hotel rooms.

“I think I could too,” Niall voiced quietly, the words so soft that he wasn’t sure if he had said them out loud or in his head. Zayn smiled at him for a moment, the same smile that featured in far too many of Niall’s thoughts, so soft that it made his breath catch in his throat. “Come here, then,” Zayn murmured, voice having dropped an octave. He pulled Niall closer, connecting their lips together once again. The kiss was more frantic this time around, Niall’s lips parting so that Zayn could lick inside his mouth, the older man holding him in place with a firm grip on the back of his neck.

Niall’s own fingers found Zayn’s waist, his grip tightening as the older man bit down on his bottom lip, not at all gently. It was as if all of the tension in the room earlier had been replaced with something else entirely, the air between them thick and heavy with years of unresolved feelings. Zayn extricated himself from the kiss, his fingers trailing down Niall’s body until he could wrap his fingers around his wrist, tugging him along up his staircase. Niall could barely comprehend what was happening, his mind whirling with far too many thoughts for him to hope to keep up with. All he knew was that he needed Zayn’s lips back on his again, the older man fulfilling his request by pressing him up against a wall at the top of the staircase, their lips meeting once more. 

“God, Zayn, please,” Niall whined, his hands trailing beneath the taller man’s sweater, cheeks flushing red at the feeling of Zayn’s bare skin against his fingers. Zayn somehow managed to lead them to his bedroom, not needing to flick on the lights as enough sunlight was streaming in through the parted blinds, bathing the room in a pale yellow glow. Niall barely had any time to let his gaze wander around before Zayn was pushing him down onto his bed, his lips on Niall’s before the brunette’s back hit the bed.

Zayn pulled away to press an open-mouthed kiss to Niall’s neck, gripping his jaw in place between his fingers. “What do you want?” He questioned softly, honey practically dripping off of the murmured words. Niall could barely handle Zayn’s gaze on him as it was, considering the fact that Zayn probably had the most natural bedroom-eyes he’d ever seen, but with the way that he was looking at him now, gaze narrowed and pupils blown, Niall had practically forgotten how to speak. “Anything,” He finally breathed out in response, realizing belatedly that he sounded like a teenager getting off for the first time but far too gone to care.

Zayn seemed pleased with the response though, a smirk that had Niall’s heart-rate quickening meeting the older man’s lips. “Let me make you feel good,” Zayn murmured, sitting up slightly and motioning for Niall to do the same. Niall obliged, biting down on his lower lip as the older man helped him get his T-shirt off, leaving him shirtless. Zayn was looking at him as if he was made of stars, gaze awed, and Niall was taken back to their X-Factor days, when he would catch Zayn staring at him far too many times for it to be a mere coincidence.

“You’re beautiful,” Zayn said quietly, the words causing Niall to flush, ducking his head with a slight shake of his head, smile bashful. He could imagine Zayn’s responding smile as the older man made his way down Niall’s body, undoing his jeans and pulling them over his legs. Niall lifted his legs up to help the other boy make quick work of his pants, the older man getting them off fully and tossing them off to the side, leaving him only in his white boxers. Zayn pulled away for a moment to rid himself of his own shirt, Niall’s eyes roaming down his heavily tattooed chest, drinking in the new tattoos that Zayn had gotten since he’d left the band, ones that Niall had never seen before in person. He wanted to take his time relearning each and every single one of Zayn’s tattoos, wanted to trace over each of them with his fingertips, something that he’d always longed to do while they were in the band.

Niall hadn’t given much thought as to what the older man meant earlier when he said that he wanted to make Niall feel good, but realization spread throughout him as Zayn fit himself in between Niall’s spread legs, slowly taking off the brunette’s boxers. “Zayn,” Niall groaned out softly, raising a hand to run his fingers through his own hair, in disbelief at the mere thought of what Zayn was about to do.

“I’ve got you, babes,” Zayn replied quietly, tone velvety, pulling his boxers all the way off and letting them join the pre-existing pile of Niall’s clothes on the floor. Niall was already half-hard from the intent beneath Zayn’s proximity, a breathy sigh leaving his lips as the older man leant down and licked a stripe up the length of his cock.

Zayn wrapped his fingers around Niall’s cock and directed it towards his mouth, his lips parting to suck on Niall’s head. His eyes flickered up to meet Niall’s, the black of his pupils swallowing up the natural hazel of his eyes, practically the pure embodiment of sinfulness. Niall cursed, letting his head fall back onto Zayn’s pillow, barely able to look at the other man without feeling as if he’d come far too soon.

Zayn licked along the shaft of Niall’s cock, the delicate contact enough to make Niall feel as if a bolt of lightning had struck through his entire body, a moan escaping his lips. It’d been a while since he’d hooked up with anybody and Zayn’s lips felt like pure magic on his skin, the brunette unable to help himself from letting out soft whimpers in response to every skilful movement of Zayn’s tongue.

It didn’t take long for Zayn to begin sucking in earnest, his fingers wrapping around the base of Niall’s cock as he pushed himself further. Niall let out a groan as he felt the other boy’s throat loosening to take more of him inside, the feeling beyond anything that he’d ever felt before, completely overwhelming with pleasure. He forced himself to look up slightly to catch sight of Zayn forcing himself down further, until he was finally at the base of Niall’s cock. Zayn’s eyes opened so that they were meeting Niall’s once more, and the brunette felt his stomach tighten at the sight of Zayn’s eyelashes matted with tears.

Niall couldn’t help himself, raising a hand to brush his fingers through Zayn’s soft hair, holding him in place as his hips lifted off the bed, the rough push causing Zayn to gag around him. Niall groaned loudly at the feeling, his mind having practically gone blank with pleasure, grip tightening on the raven-haired man’s hair. “God, your mouth,” Niall whined, brushing his fingers through the older man’s hair as he let him set his own pace.

Zayn hummed around his cock in response, pulling away for a moment, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. “You can hold me down, I like it,” He murmured, tone gravelly and voice slightly hoarse from the exertion. Niall swore, raising an eyebrow slightly as if to ask for confirmation, as he gripped onto Zayn’s hair more tightly, the older man nodding before taking him back in his mouth again.

It only took a few more deep pushes before Niall felt the familiar tightening of his stomach, his grip on Zayn’s hair loosening, mind going blank with pleasure as he instinctively let out a string of curses. “Zayn, I’m going to come,” Niall managed to stammer out, the older man simply humming in response, sucking more vigorously. The brunette’s hips lifted off the bed again, the force of his orgasm ripping a hoarse groan from his throat, the older man swallowing as Niall came inside his mouth.

Zayn pulled away, wiping gently at his mouth to catch the come that he’d missed, sucking his fingers into his mouth afterwards. Though Niall’s mind was still hazy from his orgasm, he let out a soft noise at the sight, barely able to comprehend what had just happened. “C’mere,” Niall mumbled, pulling the older man up his body so that he could connect their lips together, switching their positions so that he was the one on top now.

He licked into the older man’s mouth, his hands reaching down to undo the button on Zayn’s skinny jeans, hastily pulling them off his body with perhaps a bit more force than he originally intended. Niall pulled away from the kiss to lick his own hand, Zayn’s gaze narrowing at the sight. With that, he wrapped his fingers around Zayn’s cock through his boxers, pulling him off with hasty, rough strokes.

Zayn whined quietly, leaning forward to bring their lips together, the kiss rather uncoordinated as Zayn panted breathily against his mouth. The older man instinctively bit down on Niall’s lip as he came all over the brunette’s hand, body shaking from the sensitivity of his orgasm, loud moan muffled by the kiss.

A relaxed silence settled over the two for a few moments as they lay together, Zayn’s breathing evening out while Niall absently ran his fingers down the taller man’s back. “I don’t wanna move,” Zayn mumbled, nuzzling his head closer to Niall’s shoulder as he wrapped an arm around the younger man’s waist. A soft chuckle escaped Niall’s lips, endeared by the older man’s clinginess; if Niall had to have guessed what Zayn was like after getting off with someone, this was exactly it. 

“We have to get up eventually,” Niall said quietly, raising a hand up to pet Zayn’s scalp, the older man simply shifting closer to the brunette, a soft noise of protest leaving his lips. Niall held his breath as Zayn pressed a gentle closed-mouth kiss to Niall’s neck, the feather-light contact enough to make Niall’s heart stutter in his chest.

It took them a while but the pair eventually stood, Zayn leading Niall to the bathroom and guiding him into the shower with a gentle hand on his lower waist. They spent some time in the shower like that, Zayn using his loofah to lather expensive soap all over Niall’s skin, touching the younger man as if he was made of porcelain.

The careful way that Zayn handled him had Niall wondering whether the other man had imagined doing it before, and the thought made him quiver in the taller man’s arms, leaning forward to allow the water stream to envelop him completely. It felt as if all of the noise in Niall’s head had finally come to a complete standstill, like the inevitable had happened; everything that had been building between them for four years had finally peaked to a crescendo.

Zayn lent Niall one of his sweaters once their shower was finished, the younger man shrugging the jumper on, engulfed in Zayn’s familiar warm scent. It was a little large on him, the sleeves extending past his fingertips and the hem past his thighs, but he felt at home in it, in a way that he hadn’t felt for a long time. It almost made him forget everything else that’d happened between them, taking him back to a time where Zayn hadn’t left and things were _normal_. 

The two got in beneath Zayn’s covers, turning on their sides so that they were facing each other. Zayn was hauntingly beautiful up close, full lips, long eyelashes, defined jaw; Niall was brought back to a few times on stage, when Zayn would catch Niall’s eye and smile, and Niall would forget how to sing for a few moments. Niall would never understand why Zayn looked at _him_ as if he was made up of stardust when he was so glaringly average compared to the raven-haired man. The older man was looking at him like that now, gaze filled with awe, and Niall could barely handle it, eyes flickering down to rest his gaze on Zayn’s chin instead.

“I haven’t seen your new hair from this close ‘till now,” Zayn commented, reaching a hand up to gently brush a strand of Niall’s hair away from his face, his touch featherlight. “You think I should dye it back to blonde so that I can be your type again?” Niall questioned teasingly, the words making a soft chuckle escape Zayn’s lips. Niall would never admit it to anybody, but getting rid of the blonde, in some ways, felt as if he was taking back a part of himself that belonged to Zayn. Zayn adored his hair more than anybody else; he could spend hours just playing with it, never failing to make Niall blush when he would tell him how well the color suited him. 

“Nah, I like it like this. Makes you look…” Zayn paused as if he was looking for the right word, eyes sweeping over Niall’s features. “More mature. In the band, like, I always felt an urge to… protect you somehow? I don’t feel that way anymore, looking at you like this. Your confidence has really grown and it’s obvious, like, in the way that you present yourself.” A smile found Niall’s lips at the genuine compliment. “You’ve really grown too, Z. I think you’re much more confident now than you ever were in the band.”

“No,” Zayn dismissed, shaking his head a bit, averting his gaze away from Niall’s. “I’m pathetic. I can’t even go on stage now without having a panic attack. I’ve got two albums that I haven’t even toured because of my anxiety, that’s not called being confident.” His voice quivered with his words, and Niall’s heart clenched in his chest at the sad slant of Zayn’s mouth. He hadn’t given much thought before as to how difficult it would be for Zayn to perform alone, but seeing him like this now was enough to flood Niall with guilt. He turned so that he was resting on his back instead of his side, a heavy sigh leaving his lips.

“I’m really sorry for what I said earlier, Zayn. Being young was no excuse to let you go through the amount of bullshit that you had to face on a daily basis. We should’ve made more of an effort to educate ourselves, to learn about your religion so tha’ we could’ve been better prepared to support you. We were probably just as ignorant as the people that were disrespecting you in the first place, and there’s no excuse for that.”

“It’s okay, Niall. Honestly, I’m not even sure if _I_ knew how to deal with it. It just… It just felt like I was alone in that regard, if that makes sense? Like, we all had so much in common in terms of our background, our age, our families. But when it came to my religion and ethnicity, I didn’t… I didn’t have anyone else that was going through the same thing as me. And I was barely an adult, like, I had never been through something like that before. Obviously I’d been discriminated against in my life but not to that extent. I was held up for three hours at the airport, for Christ’s sake, you lads didn’t even get a second look. And the fact that I wasn’t allowed to speak about it made it so much worse for me. It wasn’t like Harry, where he didn’t talk about his sexuality because he didn’t feel the need to. I _wanted_ to talk about my faith, my beliefs, my culture, but I was never given the chance. And if we could ever go back, I wouldn’t let things happen like that again.”

It was a lot for Niall, to realize just how much and how long for Zayn had suffered silently behind closed doors. They had all gone through some shit while in the band but there was no denying that it was on an entirely different level for the raven haired man. The saddest part was the fact that no one was there for him when, in actual fact, they all should have been.

“I know that it’s not much consolation now but I wouldn’t let it happen again either, I swear.” Niall reached down to find Zayn’s hand beneath the covers, intertwining their fingers together. Zayn squeezed his hand, his lips lifting in a genuine smile, tongue pressed against the back of his teeth. “You were there for me, though. Moreso than the others. I know I’d like to think that I spent most of my time protecting you, but it was probably actually the other way around.” The words took Niall back to a night from a few years ago, sometime during their third tour, the memory startlingly clear in his mind. 

— *✲ﾟ*｡✧ — 

They were somewhere in South America; it’d only been a few weeks since they’d begun the tour but Niall had lost track of where they were a while ago, the days and nights blurring together into a seemingly endless cycle. That wasn’t to say that he didn’t enjoy touring – it was his favourite part of the job by far. But it was easy to lose track of time when on a schedule as hectic as his, so he couldn’t be blamed for feeling worn out so early on.

He would never understand how Liam did it, seemingly always full of boundless energy, happy to work out at the gym before running around on stage for hours. Harry liked to spend his time tucked away on their tour bus, earphones secured in his ears, often with a notebook to pen down lyrics for their upcoming album. Louis alternated between states of highs and lows, either desperate to go clubbing after a good show or refusing to get out of bed until somebody had to force him up. Zayn didn’t fit into any one particular mould; though more often than not, he kept to himself, curtains always drawn in his bunk on the bus, quiet R&B music drifting through the flimsy fabric.

Niall was currently spread atop a couch on Bus 1, the bus empty save him, Zayn, and their driver. Liam, Louis and Harry were watching a film together on the other bus, some cheesy action flick that Niall couldn’t pretend to be interested in to watch with them. The blonde stood, stretching his arms out to get rid of a crick. He’d napped for a couple of hours and boredom was beginning to nip at his heels, so he decided to go see if Zayn was up for doing anything, even if it was something as mundane as convincing their driver to stop by a fast food drive through.

Niall padded across the hallway of the bus, humming softly beneath his breath as he made his way through the row of bunks. He was brought out of his reverie by the sound of sniffling coming from Zayn’s bunk, hushed as if Zayn was muffling the noise with his hand. Niall paused in the narrow hallway, eyebrows furrowing down into a frown.

They’d known each other for more than three years now, so it wasn’t as if it was particularly strange for Niall to witness Zayn being upset. However, it was usually Zayn consoling him instead of the other way around, and truthfully, Niall was unsure of how best to approach the situation without any of the other boys with him. “Zayn?” Niall ventured quietly, gaze fixed on the black curtains covering the older man’s bunk. “You alright?”

“Yeah, ‘m fine,” Zayn responded, though it was obvious to Niall that he didn’t _sound_ fine, voice croaky and quiet, like he’d been crying for a while. Niall’s frown deepened, chewing on his lower lip as he contemplated whether or not to say something else. He couldn’t bear the thought of leaving Zayn by himself if he truly was upset, distantly wishing that Louis or even Liam were there to check on him. “Are ya’ sure?”

A beat of silence passed before the bunk curtains were slowly being opened, revealing Zayn, sat on the middle of his small bed with his phone in his lap. Niall couldn’t say what he was anticipating but he certainly wasn’t expecting the dishevelled state of the raven-haired man, eyes rimmed-red and face puffy, obvious that he’d been crying for at least a while now. “What’s happened?” Niall asked, voice laced with concern, still chewing on his lower lip.

Zayn shrugged his shoulders as he placed his phone to the side of his bed, getting out of his bunk to stand beside Niall in the narrow hallway, giving him an even better look at just how worn out the older man looked in the light. “Perrie’s left me. Again.” Zayn said, a self-depreciating chuckle accompanying the soft-spoken words.

They were all aware, by this point, how rocky their relationship had become. They’d broken up and gotten back together countless times by now, one of the many reasons that their relationship was kept mostly under wraps by their shared PR team, too afraid of the backlash that would spur from a breakup to release too much information to their fans. Niall knew how much it wore Zayn out, though he couldn’t say that he was aware of the full extent of the trials and tribulations of their relationship, as Louis was usually the one Zayn sought comfort from. All he knew was that it’d become quite toxic for both of them, and he failed to understand why they kept going back to each other. However, it wasn’t Niall’s place to say, so he’d never attempted to voice his concerns to the older man.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, mate. Did she… Did she say why?” Niall asked, feeling stupid as soon as the words left his mouth. _Of course she said why, that’s usually how break-ups work,_ Niall reminded himself, inwardly shaking his head at the absurd question. It’d been a while since he’d been in a serious relationship himself, though he often indulged in pulls at the expensive bars that they’d frequent, happy to be separated from the fame and notoriety that usually came with the mere mention of his name. Perhaps that was why he often found himself doubtful of Zayn’s relationship; because he’d never personally felt that kind of connection with somebody before, the kind that would continue to draw him in regardless of what had happened in the past.

“Yeah, said she couldn’t handle the touring anymore. Some pictures of Haz and a bird got leaked last night and she has all the reason to believe that I was there because apparently she knows fucking best,” Zayn’s tone was one that Niall was not accustomed to, harsh and spiteful, as if all the sadness that had been present in him only moments ago had dissipated and was replaced with anger instead.

“Tha’s not fair at all,” Niall replied, reaching forward to place a comforting hand on the older man’s upper arm, chewing absently on his lower lip. Niall watched as the older man’s face crumpled, shoulders beginning to shake as his body withdrew into itself, almost as if it physically hurt to cry.

“God, c’mere,” Niall said worriedly, extending his arm out so that Zayn could basically collapse onto him, chest wracked with the weight of his sobs. The blonde wrapped his arms around the taller man, engulfing him into what he assumed was a much-needed hug, brows knitted down as Zayn hugged him back.

While Niall _had_ seen Zayn upset before, it’d never been quite _this_ bad. His chest ached at the sight of the older man, drawn in on himself and so fragile, as if a single touch would completely shatter him. “I can’t do this anymore, Niall,” He mumbled, shaking his head as he extricated himself from the hug, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.

“I’m fucking sick of it, not being able to see Pez. We get into the same argument every single week and the worst part of it is that I… I know where she’s coming from. I don’t even trust myself when we go out anymore and I fucking hate it, I feel like I don’t even know who I am.”

“C’mon now, Z,” Niall said, disbelief colouring his words as he shook his head. “You’re one of the most loyal people I know. You would _never_ cheat on Perrie, ya’ shouldn’t even hafta’ think about going there.” Despite the fact that it sounded unimaginable, Niall understood exactly what Zayn was going through, well aware of the way that their lifestyle could mess with one’s perception of their surroundings. Consequently, he felt strongly about reminding Zayn of who he truly was, especially considering the fact that he was far from a cheater.

“I dunno anymore, Niall,” Zayn mumbled in response, lips drawn into a thin line, his expression conveying to Niall that he may have known more than he was truly letting on. Niall suddenly wanted to distance himself from the situation; he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to handle it if Zayn actually _was_ cheating, because then there was nothing more for him to say, other than the fact that Perrie calling it quits was the right thing to do.

Zayn must’ve noticed the look on Niall’s face because he rushed to clarify, shaking his head vehemently. “No, no, I’ve not done anything like that and I’m not ever planning to. It’s just…” Zayn paused, taking his lower lip in between his teeth and averting his gaze to the ground. When his eyes flickered back up to meet Niall’s, he shook his head once more, slight frown finding his features. “Never mind. Like, it’s nothing. I shouldn’t even be worrying you about this, it’s my problem.”

“Don’t say that, Z. You know I’m always there for you, we all are, and I don’t wanna see you like this again. The way you’re talking, that’s not being fair to yourself. It’s not my place to speak on Perrie’s behalf, but she’s an artist too, she must understand what it’s like. And y’know, if you ever need someone to speak to her and just clear her mind of any of those doubts that she’s been having, then I’m always here to do that.”

A soft, genuine smile found Zayn’s lips as he nodded his head, wrapping an arm around his frail figure. He’d stopped crying completely by now, sniffling absently. “I don’t think she’s ready to forgive me this time, if I’m being honest,” Zayn mumbled, his shoulders lifting in a slight shrug. Niall bit down on his lower lip, his next words leaving him before he really had the chance to consider them carefully. “Maybe it’s for the better, then.”

Before Zayn had a chance to respond, his phone began ringing, the older man turning slightly to face his bunk. “You should get that,” Niall said, forcing a smile before turning and making his way out of the narrow hallway, mind swirling with thoughts that he could barely comprehend.

It was around thirty minutes later when Zayn emerged from his bunk, peeking his head through the doorframe of the main sitting area of their tour bus. Niall had regained his previous position on the couch, mindlessly watching a football game that was playing on their small television. “Can I sit with you?” The older man asked quietly, to which Niall nodded. “Of course,” He replied, shifting over so that there was more room on the couch for Zayn, watching as he made his way over.

Zayn settled down beside him, the two sitting in silence as Niall flipped through the television channels to find something better for them to watch, eventually settling on a movie and placing the remote off to the side. He wanted to ask, but he kept the unspoken question to himself, deciding that Zayn would talk if he really wanted to.

“It was my Mum that called, not Pez.” Zayn clarified after a brief moment, making Niall turn slightly to meet the other boy’s eyes, no longer red-rimmed and puffy as they previously were. “Got to talk to her about everything, which was nice.”

“That is nice, Zayn,” Niall affirmed, bobbing his head in a nod. He was well aware of how much Zayn relied on his family and he was glad that his mum had called, seeing as she could likely give Zayn far better advice than he ever could. A small, indistinguishable part of him was also glad that it wasn’t Perrie on the phone, but he wasn’t sure why and he didn’t particularly want to analyze it any further.

“Thank you, Niall,” Zayn said after a beat of silence, voice quiet. When Niall turned to look at him, the older man’s gaze was trained on his own lap, fiddling with his fingers, an obvious nervous tic. “For talking to me. You were right, like, I’m so grateful for what we’re able to do every day, I shouldn’t be getting this distraught over something so small.”

“It’s not small, Z, ya’ have every right to be unhappy about the situation. Everyone’s got their bad days and you’re allowed to react however you want to. I just don’t want you to feel like you have to keep everything to yourself all the time, especially not when we’re all here to support you, okay?” Niall said sincerely, nodding his head in assurance when the other boy met his eyes.

Rather than saying anything, Zayn shifted closer, resting his head on Niall’s shoulder and averting his gaze back to the television. It wasn’t the first time that they’d had a cuddle but something felt different about it this time around, the urge to reach out and grab Zayn’s hand almost overwhelming. Niall had to force the thought out of his head, unsure of where it’d even come from. He willed himself to focus on the movie, despite the fact that he could barely understand what the actors on screen were saying over the rush of blood in his ears.

Around twenty minutes passed by before Niall realized that Zayn had fallen asleep, still resting on his shoulder. The older man’s breathing had evened out and his eyes were closed, the fact that he’d fallen asleep so quickly a clear indication that he hadn’t gotten much sleep the previous night. Niall was brought back to the way that Zayn had looked at him earlier, as if he was about to say something but stopped himself at the very last minute. Niall couldn’t help but wonder what’d been on the tip of Zayn’s tongue and what had prevented him from saying it, but the expression that’d crossed his features seemed to be burned in the back of Niall’s mind.

Zayn and Perrie were back together before the week was over, and Niall was left entirely confused as to why the news hurt him so much.

— *✲ﾟ*｡✧ — 

Niall was drawn out of his thoughts by the sound of Zayn stifling a yawn, his palm pressed against his mouth. “Sorry, I didn’t get much sleep last night,” He apologized absently, bringing his other hand up to rub tiredly at his eyes. It couldn’t be any later than 11 A.M., but Niall understood, seeing as he was barely able to get a wink of sleep last night either after Zayn’s text message. That, and the fact that the curtains had been drawn in Zayn’s room, making it seem later than it really was, was enough to make Niall tired as well, mirroring the older man’s actions with a yawn of his own.

“How far are you staying?” Zayn questioned, gaze fixed on Niall’s as he brought a hand up to brush a stray piece of hair away from his face, fingers gentle as he did so. “It’s about a forty minute drive,” Niall hummed in response, watching as Zayn’s eyes flickered down for a moment, lips drawn tight as if he was contemplating whether or not to say something.

“You could just spend the day here, then, maybe.” Zayn finally said quietly, taking his lower lip in between his teeth as his eyes flickered up to meet Niall’s. Niall knew the older man well enough to know that his tone was a hair short of genuine unaffectedness; it was evident that he’d been aiming for casual but had just slightly missed the mark.

“Okay.” Niall replied, voice just as soft, nodding his head as if to reassure them both. Zayn smiled, the smile so warm that it had Niall’s heart momentarily stuttering in his chest, before leaning forward to connect their lips together in a soft kiss. Zayn hummed in approval as Niall brought a hand up to run his fingers through Zayn’s hair, shifting forward so that he could tangle their legs together beneath the covers.

Niall whined softly into the kiss as Zayn swiped his tongue against the younger’s bottom lip, tightening his grip on his hair. Zayn placed his hand atop Niall’s cheek, palm warm against his face as he licked properly into his mouth. The raven haired man nipped at Niall’s bottom lip, causing Niall to whimper as if it was an involuntary reaction.

“Mhm, sorry,” Zayn said lowly, sounding not at all apologetic. “Could’ve fooled me into thinking that you wanted a second round with those noises you’re making,” He teased, the words making Niall flush red. “Shut up,” The brunette countered shyly, playfully hitting Zayn’s chest with the back of his hand underneath the covers.

A chuckle left Zayn’s lips as he intertwined his fingers with the hand that Niall had on Zayn’s chest, eyes crinkled up like they always did when he smiled. Niall couldn’t remember the last time that he’d felt this air of lightness with the older man, his memories still plagued with the awful few weeks leading up to Zayn’s departure, filled with uncertainty and tension.

He wished to be forever suspended in moments like this one, inhaling sharply through his nose as Zayn raised their interlocked hands to his lips to press a gentle kiss to the back of Niall’s hand. “I think we’ve got some things we have to talk about, Zayn.” Niall breathed abruptly, tone serious.

Zayn’s expression faded slightly as he let go of Niall’s hand, averting his gaze from the brunette’s eyes to his chin instead. “Okay.” He finally mumbled, eyes flicking back up to meet Niall’s, the brunette sucking in a breath at the depth of Zayn’s gaze. “Let’s just go to sleep now though, yeah?” Zayn said softly, gentle smile meeting his lips though it didn’t quite meet his eyes. “D’you want big spoon or little spoon?” Zayn asked, before Niall could had the chance to respond to his previous question.

“Little spoon,” Niall murmured, turning on his side so that his back was facing Zayn, allowing the older man to wrap an arm around his middle to pull him closer. It was the first time in a while that Niall felt at ease in somebody else’s bed, especially with Zayn enveloping him in his warmth, his lithe body pressed completely against Niall’s own. “G’night,” Niall said quietly, sleep melting his words into each other. Zayn hummed in response, gently nuzzling his head against the back of Niall’s as his grip on the other boy tightened.

When Niall awoke, it was to an empty bed. He blinked blearily, having to take a few moments to get used to the unfamiliar surroundings. The brunette sat up slowly in bed, eyes focusing on the view from the balcony doors across the room. Though Niall didn’t know what time it was, as his phone was in his pants, which had been strewn somewhere on Zayn’s floor, sunlight was no longer streaming in through the sheer curtains. He stood, making his way to the doors to part the curtains slightly, eyes flickering around Zayn’s backyard, the light from the moon bathing his surroundings in a pale, white glow.

He wrapped an arm around himself as he turned, biting down on his lower lip at the sight of the set of drawers off to the side of the room, a few notebooks and stray papers scattered across the table. He could hear faint sounds coming from outside of the doorway, presumably from downstairs, so he flicked on a light switch before making his way outside.

As he walked through the corridor and down the stairs, his gaze drifted around Zayn’s house, absentmindedly running his fingertips over the framed paintings hung up on his walls, certain that some of them had been done by Zayn himself. His thoughts flitted back to Saturday afternoons while on tour, stretched across a sofa with the older man, doodling mindlessly across his sketchbook pages. Zayn would watch fondly, stretching over every once in a while to sketch an addition of his own, dissolving into giggles before asking Niall to sign so that everybody would know who the drawings belonged to. His heart ached at the memory, forcing the image out of his mind as he peeked around the doorway of the kitchen, met with Zayn’s back, the older man standing over the stovetop.

He must’ve made a sound as he entered because Zayn turned, easy smile meeting his lips at the sight of the brunette. “Hi, sleepy,” He greeted, the words causing a smile to find Niall’s lips as well, shaking his head a little. “Not very nice of you to leave me in bed all by myself,” Niall remarked as he made his way closer, met with an indignant yelp from Zayn, who promptly shooed him away with a wave of his hand.

“You didn’t think that I forgot about your birthday, did you? I don’t want you to see what I’m making, fuck off,” The older man’s tone was playful, lifting a wooden spoon up at Niall threateningly. Niall raised his hands in a show of defence, a brief chuckle leaving his lips before he sat on one of the chairs beside the kitchen island, resting his head between his palms as he watched the older man cook.

Niall let his eyes sweep over the tattoos he could see from where he was sitting, the large rose spanning across the back of Zayn’s head, the mandala adorning his ear, the tip of his fantail tattoo just peeking out of the loose T-shirt that he had on. Though he’d always naturally had a thinner frame, Zayn had filled out in all of the right places, looking far healthier than he ever did while he was in the band. It was obvious to Niall that Zayn had grown a lot as a person over the last few years, both mentally and physically; Niall felt absurd, knowing that there was still a hole deep in his chest from when Zayn had left, when it was becoming increasingly clear to him that the raven-haired man had moved on a while ago.

The thought stung more than he’d like to admit. Perhaps it’d been naïve for him to expect more from the older man, but the betrayal that he’d felt during their last night together remained ever-present in the back of his mind. Niall would never forget the guilty look on Zayn’s features in the hotel room that night, eyes trained on the ground as he spoke. He could still remember the matching looks of confusion that Liam, Harry and Louis were wearing, remembered his _own_ bewilderment at the fact that a member of their PR team was in the room with them.

“ _What, so you’re going home for a few days?_ ” Liam had asked innocently, gentle smile on his lips. “ _We’ve got a solid week off after we finish the Asian leg of the tour, surely you could just take a break then and meet us back in Africa_.” Zayn had just looked up at Liam blankly, face completely devoid of emotion as he shook his head. “ _It’s not like that, Li_ ,” The older man’s voice was shaky, barely above a whisper, and Niall _still_ remembered the way that his heart had dropped to the bottom of his stomach.

“Any guesses on what I’m making?” Zayn questioned, drawing the brunette out of his thoughts, gaze focusing on Zayn, who’d turned slightly, eyebrows raised. “Uh,” Niall responded distractedly, running his fingers through his hair. “I don’ know, is it one of your Mum’s recipes, maybe?” 

Zayn smiled, tongue pressed against his teeth, his head bobbing in a nod. “I hope your tastes haven’t changed,” He commented before turning back to face the stovetop, slowly stirring the pot with his wooden spoon. Niall had been over to the older man’s home in Bradford countless times before, often when their breaks were too short for him to fly back to Ireland. He wondered absently how Zayn’s family was doing now, only having seen glimpses of them on his Twitter feed, pictures of Gigi and all of his sisters in the same places that he’d once stood.

Niall couldn’t fathom why, even with Zayn only a few feet away from him, something that he’d wanted for _years_ now, he still felt so detached. It felt as if everything was resurfacing, as if all of the unspoken words from the last four years were crawling up his throat and— “Can I have a smoke?” Niall questioned abruptly, standing up.

Zayn turned, eyebrows knitted down into a slight frown. “You want a smoke? Do you smoke now?” He asked, words tinged with confusion. The brunette shrugged his shoulders in response, absently shoving his hands in his pockets as he bit down on his bottom lip. He only ever smoked when he was really stressed, but there was an uncomfortable itch beneath his skin that he just needed to get rid of, figuring that a cigarette was the only justifiable way to distance himself from the situation. “I’ve got a pack somewhere on my desk upstairs.”

That was all Niall needed, nodding before turning and making his way out of the kitchen, an image of the older man’s furrowed brows burned in the back of his mind. It only took a bit of rummaging around Zayn’s desk to find an opened pack and his pink lighter—the same one that he’d had in the band. He walked over to the balcony doors, opening them up, exhaling softly at the feeling of the cold evening air against his skin.

He gingerly closed the doors behind him, no longer feeling as if he was being suffocated; suffocated by Zayn’s house, his belongings, his mere _presence_. He didn’t know how to deal with all of the feelings that were arising as a result of seeing the raven-haired man again, completely overwhelmed by the jumbled mess of thoughts whirling around in his head. He’d convinced himself that reconnecting with Zayn was nothing but an impossibility, but now that it’d actually happened, he didn’t know how to act or what to do.

Niall shook his head slightly as he took out a cigarette from the pack, flicking Zayn’s lighter on to light it before placing the pack and the lighter on a small side table on Zayn’s balcony. He raised the cigarette to his mouth, inhaling deeply before blowing the smoke out into the air.

A couple of minutes passed by before the balcony doors were being opened, Niall turning slightly to meet Zayn’s gaze. “Dinner’s ready,” Zayn said, toeing into the balcony and extending a hand. Niall passed the cigarette to the other, watching as he brought it to his lips, the smoke curling around his mouth after he exhaled. Niall’s fingers itched for the polaroid camera that he had at home, the picturesque sight of Zayn smoking against the backdrop of the evening sky too beautiful not to capture.

“You’re staring.” Zayn commented quietly, smile ghosting his lips as he took another drag, blowing the smoke out away from Niall’s face. Though the cigarette still had a few drags left, Zayn put it out, thoughtlessly throwing it over the balcony railing. “You’re beautiful,” Niall breathed in response, unable to help himself.

Zayn’s lips pursed, features looking quite hurt. Niall inwardly chastised himself, absently noting that he had to be more careful with his words. He’d just acted like an asshole in the kitchen and here he was, sending Zayn mixed signals and looking like even more of an asshole for not addressing it. “I’m sorry for walking out on you.” Niall apologized, averting his gaze to the ground. “This is all just a little overwhelming.”

“Hey, it’s okay.” Zayn murmured, stepping forward to place a gentle hand on the brunette’s arm. “It’s overwhelming for me too, like. We can just agree to take things slow, okay?” Niall nodded in response, biting down on his bottom lip.

Zayn raised a hand to rub his thumb against Niall’s lower lip before leaning forward to gently connect their lips together. Niall kissed him back, wrapping his arms around the taller man’s neck to pull him closer. He chased the taste of nicotine in Zayn’s mouth, certain that he’d constantly be craving the taste now. Zayn’s fingers found Niall’s waist, gripping it in his hands and pressing him against the balcony railing.

The raven-haired man pulled away after a few moments, amber-hued eyes flickering down to Niall’s lips as if he couldn’t help himself. Niall understood the feeling of not wanting to be disconnected for a single moment, wishing that they could skip all of the conversation and just _let it be_. But there were still several unanswered questions looming in his mind, years of unresolved issues, and he knew that he wouldn’t be able to just let it all go, no matter how badly he wanted to. Zayn must’ve noticed the expression on Niall’s face because he absently squeezed his lower waist, tilting his head slightly towards the opened balcony doors. “C’mon, let’s eat.”

As promised, dinner went by relatively calmly, their conversation light and not of much substance. Zayn had made one of Niall’s favourites to eat back in Bradford, chicken tikka masala and basmati rice, the first proper homecooked meal that he’d had in a while and undoubtedly the best. It was only afterwards, when the two found themselves in Zayn’s backyard, settled atop chairs with the faint backyard light on in the background, that their conversation delved into unknown territory.

They both had matching bowls of mint chocolate-chip ice cream, Zayn’s favourite, but Niall was unable to do much more than mechanically pick at the ice cream with his spoon, lower lip tucked in between his teeth. “You okay?” The older man asked quietly, gaze flickering down to Niall’s barely touched bowl. Niall looked up from the ice cream, a moment passing by before Zayn’s words registered in the back of his mind, bobbing his head in a nod. “Yeah, yeah, ‘m good.”

Zayn didn’t seem convinced however, shaking his head as he placed his own bowl off to a side table, sitting forward slightly so that he could meet Niall’s eye. He didn’t say anything, eyebrows raised slightly, features expectant as if he was waiting for Niall to say something. The brunette finally relented, breathing out a sigh as he averted his gaze to the ground. “I just… What were you expecting when you messaged me?” Perhaps it wasn’t the best time to ask all of the questions looming around in his mind but Niall knew that they would eat away at him if he didn’t. 

Zayn’s shoulders lifted in a jerky shrug, features not giving away much at all. “I dunno, like, I wasn’t expecting much, if I’m being honest. I didn’t even think that you’d reply to me, let alone actually _be_ in LA so I kind of got ahead of myself. It was like I said, I realized that it was your birthday and like, took it as a sign to message, I guess. I missed you—I’ve _been_ missing you so I saw the chance and took it.”

“So you weren’t expecting us to hook up?” Niall asked bluntly, absently fiddling with a loose strand of fabric on the sweater that he had on. Zayn stayed silent for a moment, eyebrows furrowed down as if he was carefully considering the brunette’s words. “I’m not sure, like, I obviously wouldn’t have been disappointed if it didn’t happen but I guess it wasn’t… completely out of the question? I know we haven’t ever addressed it or talked about it before but… I had a feeling that something was bound to happen. Can’t say that I was expecting you to make the first move, though.”

Niall hummed in response, lifting his spoon to his mouth to take a bite of the now mostly-melted ice cream. “I have feelings for you, Zayn.” Niall said quietly, distantly hoping that laying his cards bare on the table wouldn’t come back to bite him later. The brunette exhaled a deep breath, pulse thrumming beneath his skin. “It’s going to take a while for me to come to terms with it, especially when it took me so long to convince myself that I no longer felt _anything_ for you after you’d left.”

In reality, it was much more than that. After the older man left, Niall was heartbroken. It was impossible to pretend otherwise, only having enough energy to muster up a façade of unaffectedness while on stage; in reality, he would spend his nights alone, left at a loss as to why he wasn’t enough for Zayn to want to stay. After they began their hiatus, Niall put all of his energy into working on his new album, writing pages upon pages about someone that’d seemingly left him without a second thought. Niall’s sadness soon gave way to anger, red-hot rage burning at his edges as he’d watch interviews of Zayn, speaking carelessly about his time in the band as if he hadn’t once been a part of it. Louis would send him screenshots every once in a while, images of lyrics from his new singles, _Look at this load of bullshit._

It was the sole reason that he was struggling so much now. He hadn’t realized that seeing Zayn in person would so rapidly bring back all the feelings that he’d been repressing ever since the older man left, but it shouldn’t have been too surprising, considering the fact that he’d always been completely defenceless when it came to Zayn. “Okay.” Zayn murmured, nodding his head. “Okay. I can work with that.”

“I just hafta’ ask, Z,” Niall began, absently nibbling on his thumbnail, eyebrows creased down into a slight frown. “I can’t just be a rebound to you. I know that it hasn’t been that long since you were last with Gigi and I can’t… I can’t put myself in a position like that, not at this point.” Walking through Zayn’s house felt as if Gigi’s ghost still remained, from the pictures framed on his walls to the completely empty room that he’d passed on his way to the kitchen, one that once obviously belonged to her. If Zayn was upset with the question, his expression didn’t give it away, simply looking contemplative. A moment of silence passed, likely only a few seconds in real life but feeling as if it was an eternity to Niall.

“I was in love with you for the better part of four years, Niall.” Niall stilled at the quiet confession, never having heard the words spoken out loud before. Zayn continued, running his fingers through his hair as he shook his head slightly. “I _know_ that makes me sound like a shitty person but I loved Perrie too, like, I never felt as if it was a choice I had to make between the two of you, y’know? You were always there for me and I guess I knew that a relationship between us wouldn’t have been realistic so I just let the prospect of it go. It didn’t change the way that I felt for you though, I don’t think anything would’ve, if I’m being honest. The point is, it wasn’t difficult for me to fall for you once and I can’t imagine it being very difficult again. I’d be lying if I said that I wasn’t still hurt by what happened with Gi but… she broke it off with me a while ago and she’s made it very clear that she doesn’t see us together in the future. I respect her decision and I’ve learnt to come to terms with it. I understand that it may be hard for you to believe but I’ve never stopped caring about you.”

“If you never stopped caring about me, then why didn’t you make an effort to reach out to me, Zayn? Why did it take four years for you to fucking say something?” Niall asked, tone frustrated, hurt bleeding out of him as if it was an open wound.

“That’s not fair, Niall. It’s not as if you tried to contact me either.” Zayn said, gaze trained down on his lap. Niall simply shook his head in response. “Y’know that’s different, Z. Things were _different_ once you’d left, it wasn’t like I could just talk to you whenever I wanted.”

“That didn’t stop Li, though, did it?” Zayn replied coldly, his indifferent tone a harsh contrast to his previously genuine words. Unlike the rest of them, Liam never held a grudge. Niall distinctly remembered the way that Liam would disappear sometimes, fifteen minutes at a time, tucked into a corner somewhere backstage at whatever venue they were playing at. “Who were you on the phone with?” Niall would ask casually, taking note of Liam’s averted gaze, the way that he would rub at the back of his neck guiltily, how he’d shrug his shoulders and mumble a half-hearted response. It took a couple more times of it happening for Niall to realize who it was on the other end, and then the same questions would plague his mind every night: _Was it Zayn that’d been the one to reach out to Liam or was it the other way around? Why hadn’t he tried to contact Niall yet? What would they talk about for so long?_ Knowing Liam, it was likely that he’d been the one to reach out first, but that didn’t stop Niall from feeling irrationally hurt about the whole thing.

Niall stayed silent, knowing that there wasn’t any response that he could give, because Zayn was right; he had every opportunity to contact him and the simple fact was that he’d chosen not to. “I’m sorry, Niall, like, I don’t want to fight.” Zayn apologized after a beat of silence, leaning forward so that he could take Niall’s hand in his own, absently running his thumb along the back of the younger man’s hand. His eyes looked hurt again, lips slanted down into a sad frown, and Niall felt like the biggest asshole in the world for having put that expression on Zayn’s face twice now, in less than the span of an hour.

“Fuck, Zayn. I don’t want to fight either, I just… Listen, I have to head out to New York in a couple of days for promo and when I get back, we can talk things out properly, okay?” It was quite literally the worst time to have to travel, but it wasn’t as if Niall could put his career on hold to try to work things out with Zayn. It was an odd realization to come to, the fact that they were no longer in sync like they once were.

Rather than responding with words, Zayn simply nodded, hurt still evident in his eyes. “Go to bed, I’ll be up once I finish cleaning up.” Zayn’s tone was dismissive as he stood, letting go of Niall’s hand. Niall watched as the older man reached over to pick up his bowl of ice-cream, pointedly avoiding Niall’s gaze. Though Niall considered offering to help out, he knew when he wasn’t wanted, so he stood instead, making his way inside Zayn’s house.

Despite how long he’d napped earlier, Niall suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of tiredness overcome him, just wanting to get into bed and not have to think anymore. He was aware that things weren’t going to be easy, but he hadn’t anticipated them being quite _this_ difficult. Niall knew that every conversation that they would have would undoubtedly devolve into the same thing; they had to figure out how to get past it. Or, though Niall was struggling to admit it to himself, _he_ needed to figure out how to get past it. It was obvious to Niall that Zayn had moved on a while ago, didn’t seem to bear a single ounce of resentment towards Niall. A part of Niall almost wished that Zayn _did_ , just so Niall didn’t have to feel as if he was the one entirely responsible for the animosity between them. The thought made Niall’s head ache, and he pushed it out of his mind, shaking his head slightly as he entered the bathroom in Zayn’s room.

He rummaged around a bit before he found a seemingly unused plastic toothbrush – though he couldn’t say that he would care if Zayn _had_ used it before, considering the fact that it was a rather common occurrence for their toothbrushes to get mixed up while on tour – and brushed his teeth with it. Once he was finished, he set the toothbrush inside a glass cup, splashing his face with water before leaving the bathroom.

The sound of a buzz from the floor reminded Niall that his phone was still in his shorts, but he didn’t have the energy to actually check his notifications, absently deciding to leave it on the floor. With that, he flicked the lights off and got in beneath the covers. The sleepiness that had previously corroded his entire being left him, especially since Zayn wasn’t in bed with him. He longed for the feeling of being in the older man’s arms once again, a sigh escaping his lips as he forced his eyes shut.

Niall didn’t know how much time had passed before Zayn entered his bedroom, the brunette listening as the older man made his way to the bathroom, spending a few minutes inside before padding into bed and getting in beneath the covers. Rather than pulling Niall closer as he did earlier, Zayn turned so that he was facing the opposite side. Niall knew that he deserved the cold treatment, but it still stung more than he cared to admit.

It felt like a few hours had passed before the next time that Niall blearily blinked his eyes open; he’d been awoken by the sound of a soft rustling. The brunette turned over in bed, eyebrows furrowing down into a slight frown as he realized that Zayn was no longer next to him. He sat up, blinking a few more times to allow his eyes to get adjusted to the dim surroundings. The source of the sound had been the balcony doors, which were now parted slightly open, a cool breeze whispering throughout the room. A soft sigh escaped Niall’s lips as he stood, stretching his arms out before padding across the room to the balcony.

Upon stepping onto the balcony, Niall could see that Zayn was smoking, wisps of smoke curling around the edges of his dark silhouette. “Come back to bed,” Niall said quietly, sleep melting his words together into a jumbled murmur. Zayn didn’t even flinch at Niall’s presence, simply humming a soft response, continuing to stare out ahead at the night sky. Niall made his way over, wrapping his arms around the older man’s waist and resting his head on Zayn’s back. Though Zayn initially stiffened at the touch, he relaxed into Niall’s grip after a few beats.

“I’m sorry about how I acted earlier, Z.” Niall apologized quietly, words muffled slightly in Zayn’s back. “I just need time, I promise. That’s all.” Zayn didn’t reply, the silence enough to eat away at Niall’s being, to make him feel as if Zayn wasn’t interested in pursuing anything further anymore. Zayn detached himself from Niall’s grip, putting out his finished cigarette beneath his foot. Though it was completely dark outside, Niall could still make out the delicate lines of Zayn’s features as the taller man turned to face him, full lips, wide eyes, long eyelashes. There was an underlying tinge of hurt lining his features, fragile, as if a single wrong word would completely shatter him.

“I don’t want this to just be a hook-up.” Zayn said, the words spoken barely above a whisper. Niall nodded vehemently in response, unsure of what he would have to do to convince Zayn that he felt exactly the same way. “I never thought that it was just going to be a hook-up, Z.”

“I just…” Zayn exhaled a shuddery breath, shaking his head slightly as his eyes flickered to the ground. “I can’t afford to lose you again, Niall.” Zayn murmured, reaching forward to take Niall’s hand in his own, gaze trained on their interlocked fingers, as if looking into Niall’s eyes was too much for him to handle. The brunette’s heart clenched at the mumbled words, squeezing Zayn’s hand.

“You won’t lose me. I told you – The minute I’m back from New York, we can take our time with everything. I want to be with you, Zayn, okay?” Zayn nodded, though he kept his gaze on their intertwined fingers, not meeting Niall’s eyes. The brunette released Zayn’s hand and pulled him closer into a hug, the embrace drawing him back to a few years ago; when they’d been in the exact same position, though in differing circumstances. Zayn hugged him back like a promise, fingers clenched in the fabric of Niall’s shirt as if he was afraid to let go.

“Let’s get back to bed, petal,” Niall murmured, the pet-name escaping his lips before he could really think about it. Zayn didn’t seem to mind though, another soft sigh leaving his lips as he extricated himself from the hug, guiding the brunette back to bed with a hand on his waist. Zayn shut the balcony doors behind them before they both got back into bed. This time, Zayn pulled him closer into his arms, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of Niall’s shoulder—and Niall knew that things were going to be alright.

— *✲ﾟ*｡✧ — 

Around three months had passed since that decisive reunion. Niall stayed true to his promise, returning to Zayn’s house after his brief stint in New York, wearing the older man’s sweater and carrying enough luggage to last him a couple of months. It wasn’t as if living with Zayn was something that was completely foreign to Niall, considering the fact that they’d practically lived in each other’s pockets for a majority of their young adult lives.

What was new to Niall was the domesticity; Zayn’s bright features on an early Sunday morning, the way that he’d smile with his tongue pressed against his teeth, the corner of his eyes crinkling with the force of it. How he could spend hours just playing with Niall’s hair, or tracing the freckles smattered across his neck as if they were constellations, or even breaking out a sketchbook and his expensive charcoal pencils to draw him across several sheets of paper. How he’d sing under his breath in the kitchen, lyrics from unreleased songs that only Niall would ever get the chance to listen to.

There were other things that were different too; Niall now knew what Zayn looked like when he came, the way that his eyebrows would knit together and his full lips would form around a silent moan. Niall learnt that Zayn had a thing for restraints, whether it was holding Niall down with his wrists gripped firmly in his hands or ghosting his fingers over Niall’s neck, barely any pressure but still enough to make Niall light-headed. He’d also discovered that Zayn was quite possessive; just a few hours ago, Zayn had had him pinned down in bed, sucking a dark bruise onto his neck before murmuring low into his ear, _I just want everybody to know who you belong to._

Niall snapped out of his thoughts, watching his reflection in the bathroom mirror, red crawling up his neck at the mere memory. He was currently inside of the Las Vegas airport, waiting for his car to arrive to pick him up. He’d just dropped a single and his album was set to release in about a month, so he was going to do a few talk-show performances over the next few days.

Despite the fact that it was only going to be for a few days, leaving Zayn was difficult. Though their first few days together were challenging, they’d finally managed to talk everything out. It was inevitable that there were still going to be disagreements between them, but that didn’t change the way that Niall felt about Zayn, not in the slightest. He should’ve known, the minute that he laid eyes on the other man, that his previous feelings would return with full force. He couldn’t help but wonder what would’ve happened if either of the two had made an effort to keep in contact after Zayn’s departure. The thought that Niall possibly wasted four years of his life depriving himself of genuine happiness stung more than he’d care to admit.

Niall rubbed at his neck, tilting his head slightly to get a better look at it in the mirror. There were three large bruises spanning across a sizeable portion of his throat, purple rimming each of the dark red marks. Niall had never really been much of a possessive partner himself but he certainly didn’t mind that Zayn was, if the volume of his moans earlier had been any indication. He’d been running late for the airport so he hadn’t gotten a chance to properly cover them up, but it was worth it, seeing Zayn’s smirk before Niall left his house, the way his eyes flickered down to Niall’s neck before rubbing firmly over one of the bruises with his thumb.

Niall had to shake his head to clear his thoughts once again, deciding that now wasn’t the most appropriate time to be thinking of Zayn in that way. He’d already been swarmed by the paps while entering the LAX airport, so he didn’t want to have to imagine the headlines if he was caught with a stiffy in Las Vegas.

He didn’t understand how Zayn did it, able to go weeks without being spotted anywhere. Their time together had largely been limited to Zayn’s house, an unspoken agreement between the two of them that their relationship was _private_. If he was being honest, Niall wasn’t sure how much longer Zayn could deal with it. Niall had always been a private person, preferring to keep things to himself unless he felt that it was absolutely necessary to share it with others. Zayn, on the other hand, didn’t quite see things the same way. He’d never said anything to Niall, but Niall _saw_ it, the way that this lips would purse and his brows would furrow when the brunette would go to another room to take a call, speaking in hushed tones and dodging questions about where he was staying.

Niall _knew_ what Zayn was thinking; that Niall was ashamed of him. In reality, that couldn’t be farther from the truth. Niall was _afraid_. But if he was being honest, he wasn’t exactly sure what he was afraid of. Afraid of Zayn leaving him, afraid that they’d get into a fight that they wouldn’t be able to recover from, afraid of what others would say about their relationship. Niall usually didn’t give two shits about what anyone thought about him, but this was different.

A soft sigh left Niall’s lips, overwhelmed with too many thoughts to try to decipher. He absentmindedly ran his fingers through his hair, taking one last look at himself in the mirror before exiting the airport bathroom, pulling the brim of his cap lower down on his head. He made his way towards the exit of the airport, pulling his phone out of his pocket as he walked to check if his driver had called him yet. He hadn’t, so Niall switched over to his messages instead, eyebrows furrowing down into a slight frown at the first unread text.

It was from Louis, who he hadn’t properly spoken to in a while. It was a link to an article on the Dailymail website, the article scattered with pictures of him arriving at the LAX airport from just a few hours ago, the title reading **_Niall Horan looking loved-up in LA… Hiding a secret girlfriend?_** with a few equally obnoxious captions accompanying each of the images, each pointing out the multiple hickies on his neck.

 **Louis:** _Get in Niall !! Aha_

Guilt flood throughout Niall at the text message, the brunette beginning to chew absently on his lower lip. If Louis even had an inkling of an idea about what was actually going on, Niall didn’t think that he’d be able to handle it. It was the one topic that both him and Zayn had steered completely clear from, both of them knowing that it was territory far too dangerous to wade through. If Niall felt like he’d been betrayed by Zayn leaving, then there were no words to describe the way that Louis felt about it. He’d been absolutely _shattered_ in the hotel room that night, but his sadness soon gave way to anger. Niall would never forget the way that Louis had screamed at Zayn later on, words brash and loud and biting, and the way that Zayn had just sat there, not even trying to defend himself. Niall knew that Louis was still angry about it, and since then, the relationship between them had only gotten worse. Niall knew that it was wrong that he wasn’t telling Louis the truth about him and Zayn, but the last thing that he wanted was to jeopardize his relationship with Louis and he wasn’t sure what else to do.

 **Niall:** _Haha :P_

 **Louis:** _Got a new girlfriend ??_

 **Niall:** _No , it was just some bird at a pub lol_

 **Louis:** _Hahaha_

 **Louis:** _El’s got some friends she’d be happy to set you up with_

 **Louis:** _You should come visit sometime and stop spending all your time in LA :p_

 **Niall:** _For sure bro!!! xxx_

Niall shook his head a little, his phone beginning to vibrate in his hands, swiping right on the call before bringing the phone to his ear. It was his driver informing him that he’d reached, so Niall hummed in assent, hanging up and making his way outside. It only took a few moments for him to locate the large, black car that’d been arranged for him, making his way over and getting inside. He was staying at a hotel about forty-five minutes away from the airport so it was going to be a long ride. He opened his phone up again, clicking on his unopened message thread with Zayn this time instead. He was unable to help the smile that found his lips at the older man’s messages, his heart fluttering in his chest.

 **Zayn:** _miss you xxxx_

 **Zayn:** _have fun in las vegas babes <3 <3 _

**Zayn:** _remember when we were in vegas for your birthday aha_ 򪪪򪪪

Niall _did_ remember; in fact, it’d been one of the most memorable birthdays of his life, only succeeded by his most recent one, for obvious reasons. He knew what stood out to the fans were the images and videos of him and Zayn at the pub that night, but what was truly unforgettable to Niall was what happened afterwards.

— *✲ﾟ*｡✧ — 

It was probably around 4 A.M. by the time the pair made it back to their hotel after their wild night of partying, stumbling out of the cab before dissolving into giggles. Niall wasn’t completely wasted but he was definitely tipsy, as was the older man, all bright eyes and even brighter smile. Somehow completely unscathed, they made their way into the hotel and onto the hotel elevator.

Zayn grinned over at Niall as the elevator ascended the numerous floors up to their top suite, their rooms far too expensive considering the short duration of their stay in Las Vegas. “That was a fucking sick night, mate,” Zayn said, reaching over to place an absent hand on Niall’s shoulder and squeezing it gently. A loud laugh left Niall’s lips in response, nodding his head in agreement. The beginning of the night had been absolutely insane, but the best part of it for Niall was when Zayn arrived; especially considering the fact that Niall wasn’t even expecting the other man’s presence until he was suddenly _there_ , greeting him with a hug and a round of shots. The raven-haired man had really gone out of his way to make sure the night was special for Niall, and he was endlessly grateful for that, knowing that the reason that Zayn did it all was because he knew Niall was upset that he couldn’t make it back home for his birthday. The elevator characteristically dinged as they reached their floor, the two exiting and making their way over to their neighbouring rooms.

Zayn leant against the wall next to his hotel room door, another smile finding his lips. “Did you... How did you like your birthday?” Zayn asked gently, timidness lining his words, as if he wasn’t sure whether or not he’d done enough. Niall’s eyes roamed Zayn’s features; his skin was practically glowing beneath the fluorescent hotel lights, long eyelashes fanning over his cheekbones as he blinked, amber-hued eyes trained on Niall’s own. The blonde only had the alcohol to blame for his wandering thoughts, otherwise unable to justify why he was so mesmerized by the other boy. “It was great, Z, better than anything I could’ve asked for.”

Zayn’s responding smile was nothing short of _beautiful_ ; shy and bashful, almost as if he didn’t want to take credit for organizing the whole night. Niall suddenly felt unsteady on his feet, unsure of what exactly was making his head spin, though it definitely wasn’t the alcohol. There were too many thoughts whirling around in his mind, thoughts that he’d never had before and he wasn’t sure quite how to deal with them. The blonde had to look away from Zayn’s warm eyes, averting his gaze to the carpeted floor instead. “I’m really glad you had a nice time, Niall. I just wanted to make everything perfect for you.”

When Niall looked up, Zayn was close, suddenly too close, the blonde seemingly able to discern every individual gold fleck scattered throughout the older man’s hazel eyes. To this day, he still wasn’t sure whether it’d been him or Zayn who’d leaned in; all he knew was that their lips connected. All of the noise in his mind came to a complete standstill as they kissed, thoughts restricted only to the boy in front of him. It was as if all of the puzzle pieces had clicked right into place, everything making more sense to Niall in that moment than things ever had.

After Niall pulled away, an overwhelming sense of dread washed over him, knowing that they’d just crossed a line that they would never be able to step back from. Almost as if in disbelief, Niall brought his hand up to his mouth, fingers ghosting over his own lips. Zayn looked just as taken aback, eyes wide, gaze tracking Niall’s hand. A beat of silence passed between the two but the blonde felt as if his pulse was loud enough for the other man to hear, thrumming rapidly beneath his skin. 

Zayn suddenly took a step back, running his fingers through his hair before shaking his head. “I’m really drunk right now,” He mumbled, a slight edge accompanying the soft-spoken words. Niall stared at the other boy, chewing down on his lower lip. Zayn was giving them an obvious out, gaze desperate, silently telling Niall to just _take it_. Niall couldn’t speak, scared that if he opened his mouth, all of his feelings would just spill out of him, incapable of remaining contained anymore. Instead, he just nodded, unable to look Zayn in the eye, gaze trained on his lower chin instead.

“Good night, Niall.” Zayn breathed, and with that, he was gone, closing the door of his room behind him immediately. Niall stood, frozen in shock, staring at Zayn’s closed hotel room door. It felt like an entirety had passed before he remembered how to walk again, turning and making his way into his own hotel room, pulse still singing beneath his skin.

The blonde sat on top his bed, absently reaching up once again to touch his mouth, still in utter disbelief that they’d kissed. It wasn’t as if Niall was entirely ignorant of the fact that his feelings for Zayn sometimes bordered the line between just friendship and something _more_ , but it was never a question in his mind about whether they’d act on it. At the same time, he’d never given much thought to the way that he truly felt about Zayn, their dynamic so effortless and uncomplicated that he never felt the need to.

Niall had a feeling that their relationship was about to get slightly more complicated, though. Niall _knew_ that Zayn wasn’t drunk enough to blame the impulsive decision entirely on the alcohol, and he knew that he wasn’t either. That had to mean that there was some intent beneath the kiss; intent that Niall didn’t particularly want to analyze further, especially not as an image of Perrie flashed in his mind, aware that the two were currently on another break but still very much _engaged_ to each other.

When Niall went to bed that night, his thoughts were filled with images of Zayn; his eyes, his smile, his lips. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d previously seen the expression on the older man’s face before they’d kissed—had he possibly thought about kissing him before? Niall wasn’t sure if he wanted to know the answer.

Zayn wouldn’t meet his eyes over breakfast the next morning, and Niall couldn’t blame him for it.

— *✲ﾟ*｡✧ — 

That night in Vegas was probably the first time that Niall had truly taken a step back to re-evaluate his feelings for Zayn. It sounded ridiculous, looking back on it, because it seemed obvious now that the way he felt for Zayn had never been _just_ friendly. Even after their kiss, he’d somehow managed to convince himself that his feelings were just amiable, despite the fact that he truly knew otherwise. They never spoke about it again either, and Niall chalked it down to a drunken decision fuelled by adrenaline, one that neither of them would ever make otherwise. He wondered if Zayn felt the same way back then, whether his thoughts were also plagued with uncertainty or whether everything had been crystal clear to him. Niall made a mental note to have a proper discussion about it later, especially since they hadn’t talked at all about their feelings for each other while they were in the band.

Niall’s gaze drifted outside the car window as the driver pulled up to the hotel, the sight of the large, exorbitant building enough to make Niall long for the comfort of Zayn’s house instead. He thanked the driver before exiting the car and making his way inside, grateful that there weren’t any paps outside waiting to swarm him and overwhelm him with questions that he usually didn’t have the answers to either. 

By the time that Niall was settled in his hotel room, his phone began ringing, the brunette unable to help the speeding up of his heart when he saw the caller ID. He swiped right, bringing the phone to his ear. “Hello?” The brunette greeted, standing up and making his way over to the large window on the side of his room, gaze wandering over the multiple buildings beneath him.

“Hi,” Zayn replied, voice warm and hushed, making Niall’s stomach swoop. Niall had become so accustomed to spending time with the other man that being apart just felt _wrong_ , especially since they were making up for four years of lost time. He’d almost forgotten how wrapped up he could get in Zayn; hours could pass but it still felt like only mere seconds had, a feeling that he’d never quite experienced with anybody else before. “What’re you up to, babes?”

“I just got checked into the hotel,” Niall replied, absentmindedly tracing over one of the ornate patterns etched onto the windowsill. “It’s nice, just a little lonely.” He admitted, glancing over at the neatly pressed bed, far too large to sleep in alone now that it’d become customary to have Zayn next to him. “How about you?” Niall questioned, averting his gaze back out the window, eyes absently tracking a black sports car burning its way through the road. 

“Was just talking to my Mum on the phone.” Niall hummed in assent, waiting for the older man to continue. “I was actually thinking of going home, like, for a couple of days.” Niall bit down on his lower lip at the other’s words, nodding even though Zayn couldn’t see him. “Oh, okay.” Though Niall fought to keep his tone neutral, the words were still padded with uncertainty. He couldn’t help but wonder as if this was Zayn’s way of asking for some time to himself, and the last thing that Niall ever wanted to do was impose.

“Um, I was wondering if maybe you’d… I dunno, if you’d wanna come?” Out of all of the things that Niall had been expecting Zayn to say, _that_ was quite literally the last possibility. The thought of being in Bradford with the older man was entirely too overwhelming for Niall; being in Bradford meant that Niall would be spending time with Zayn’s family. He’d met them countless times before, but things would be _different_ now, considering that their relationship was no longer what it once was. Niall had briefly considered the possibility of Zayn telling his mum about their relationship before, given that he shared everything with the older woman, but it’d just been a fleeting thought, not one that he’d ever thought he would have to consider properly. “To Bradford?” Niall finally managed, seemingly unable to think of anything else to say.

“Yeah, Niall.” The other boy responded, words plainly spoken as if he’d been anticipating Niall’s initial surprise. Niall absently thanked whatever higher power was listening for making Zayn so patient, realizing that he probably sounded like a complete knob. Now that he’d gotten a moment to actually process the request, he couldn’t see a single reason to say no, especially not when Zayn had been thoughtful enough to ask. He shook away his nerves, willing himself to remember that the older man would never do anything to make him uncomfortable. 

“I’d love to, Z.” The brunette responded, words genuine. Niall could hear Zayn’s answering smile in the _okay_ that he received, and his heart did a little backflip in his chest, suddenly wishing that Zayn was there with him so that he could trace his smile with his fingers. It felt as if they were taking a step in the right direction, and if Zayn was ready to do it, then so was Niall. Niall _knew_ that it was cowardly to keep everyone in his life in the dark about Zayn, but that was something that he was going to have to think about at another time, the mere _thought_ of telling Louis enough to leave him at a complete loss for words.

“I thought you wanted to go because you needed some time apart,” Niall admitted softly, making his way over to the edge of the bed and sitting down on top of it, absentmindedly running his fingers over the fabric of the comforter. “If I’d wanted some time apart then I would’ve told you, yeah?” Zayn replied simply, always the voice of reason. “Yeah, no, I’m sorry,” Niall mumbled, biting down on his lower lip before absently beginning to fiddle with a loose thread on his t-shirt.

Zayn sighed quietly into the phone, and a beat of silence passed, the brunette able to discern some shuffling in the background, as if Zayn was walking to another part of his house. “You don’t have to apologize, Niall. You should know that I’ve never felt like you were a burden in any way. I want you to stay with me, I always have. And… I couldn’t imagine being in Bradford without you, and I just want you to know, like, I’m really happy with how things are going now.”

Niall felt an overwhelming sense of longing overcome him, unsure of what he’d done to deserve Zayn, so compassionate in a way that Niall couldn’t help but envy. It’d taken Niall _years_ to feel as if he’d completely forgiven Zayn, whereas it didn’t seem to take the older man any time at all to overcome the resentment that had developed between them. The thought caused guilt to sit heavy on his chest, especially when it’d become glaringly obvious to him that Zayn had done nothing wrong by putting himself first for once. “I’m really happy too, Z.”

“I’m glad.” The older man replied fondly, Niall able to discern the smile evident in his voice. “I’ll let you go rest for a while, you must be knackered, like.” Zayn commented, Niall yawning, almost as if on command. He hadn’t travelled in a while so the flight had been particularly brutal, tiring him out in a way that travelling never used to. Niall honestly wasn’t sure how they used to do it, numerous flights within the span of a single week, and then immediately being forced to perform straight afterwards. He much preferred the relaxed pace at which he was releasing music and performing now, never feeling as if he had to put on a façade for the audience, something that was inevitable back then. 

“Don’t know how well I’ll be sleeping without you, t’be honest,” Niall remarked, scuffing the carpeted floor mindlessly with his foot. He was brought back to nights on tour, somehow still lonely despite being constantly surrounded by people. They would spend their days in nameless hotels, living out of suitcases, and despite having four other boys going through the exact same thing, Niall still felt completely isolated, as if he had no one to talk to. The feeling persisted, even after they’d gone on their hiatus, and it honestly felt as if it was the first time that he had somebody who was only looking out for Niall’s best interests, because Zayn had experienced the exact same feelings himself.

“C’mon, you’ll be fine, love. I dunno how I’m going to manage without you, more like.” Niall huffed out a chuckle in response, shaking his head slightly. “It’s only a few days, I’ll be back before you know it,” Niall said, standing up from the bottom of the bed and making his way over to the headrest instead. “Think I will take you up on that though, I’m exhausted after that flight.”

“Yeah, I’ll start looking for tickets for Bradford after you get home. Get some sleep, then,” Zayn paused, hesitating for a moment, as if he was about to say something else. “Miss you,” He finally said quietly, before he hung up the phone, Niall met with silence on the other end. As he set his phone down on the bed, Niall couldn’t help but wonder whether the words _love you_ had been on the tip of Zayn’s tongue instead.

— *✲ﾟ*｡✧ — 

As it turned out, Zayn hadn’t told his mum about their relationship. He’d just asked her if Niall could come along to visit and Trisha was obviously thrilled by the news that they’d reconnected, immensely keen on having Niall come around to see their house. Zayn had bought a new property for his family a couple of months ago, larger than their previous apartment in order to accommodate Safaa’s newly born daughter and her husband, and this would be the Zayn’s first time seeing the newly furnished residence.

Nerves sang beneath Niall’s skin as he watched several large trees go by outside the car window, his foot tapping restlessly against the ground. They were on their way to the house now, and Niall couldn’t have been more nervous if he tried, unsure of what to expect upon their arrival. He could only assume that Trisha took Zayn’s departure from the band the hardest, which was understandable, considering that the four people that were meant to have Zayn’s back no matter what had suddenly abandoned him, seemingly in the blink of an eye. Zayn had told him bits and pieces about it on the flight to Bradford (it was a wonder that they’d completely avoided any sightings, Niall wasn’t quite sure how Zayn did it), but the brunette had a feeling that he was underplaying the whole thing, knowing that he would have to genuinely prove himself if he was ever planning on winning Zayn’s family’s trust back.

Then, there was the whole other predicament of them being in a relationship. Zayn had insisted to Niall numerous times that his family wouldn’t be upset by the news, but Niall wasn’t sure how much truth there was in that assertion, considering the high likelihood that Zayn’s whole family no longer felt the same way about Niall as they once did. Zayn had also made it clear that he wouldn’t tell anyone about anything if Niall didn’t want him to, but the last thing that the brunette wanted was for the other boy to feel as if he had to hide his relationship from his family, especially with the close bond that they shared. Zayn said that they could wait until after they’d actually arrived, just in case Niall changed his mind about it at any point; now that they were actually on their way there, Niall almost felt like he was going to.

Zayn must have taken note of Niall’s unease, because he placed a hand on the younger man’s knee, the warmth of his hand bleeding through Niall’s trousers. “Niall, it’ll be okay. You’re panicking about nothing, honest.” Zayn said gently, rubbing his hand down Niall’s leg, in what Niall assumed was meant to be a reassuring gesture. “I made sure that everyone would be out right now anyways, so you’ll only have my Mum to deal with.”

“I think she’s who I’m most scared of, t’be honest,” Niall was only half-joking, huffing out a soft chuckle and shaking his head slightly. “C’mon, you know that she loves you,” Zayn said, withdrawing his hand from Niall’s knee so that he could intertwine their fingers together instead, squeezing Niall’s hand in his own.

“She _loved_ me,” Niall corrected the other boy, his attempt of keeping his tone light falling short. “Don’t say that,” Zayn said disapprovingly, eyebrows knitted down into a slight frown. “She’s happy to have you there, I promise. And, it’s as I said, like, we don’t have to tell her about anything that you don’t want her to know, yeah? I don’t want you to have to feel anxious about it.”

“No, it’s not like that. I do want her to know, Z, I’m just a little nervous about how she’s going to react, if I’m being honest. I… I don’t want her to be disappointed,” Niall confessed, turning Zayn’s hand around in his grip and tracing a pattern against the back of his hand, gaze trained on their hands so that he didn’t have to meet Zayn’s eyes. It was probably the first time that he’d expressed the sentiment out loud, the fear of not living up to the expectations that Gigi had set. It was obvious to Niall that Zayn’s family had developed a strong connection with her, and the prospect of not being able to live up to that was almost too much to bear.

“She’d never be disappointed by somebody that brings me so much happiness,” Zayn replied plainly, the soft-spoken words making Niall’s breath catch in his throat. He didn’t understand how Zayn did it, effortlessly capable of making Niall feel as if he was deserving of the entire world. When Niall’s eyes lifted, the depth of Zayn’s gaze was enough to leave the younger man at a complete loss for words. Luckily, there wasn’t much for him to say as the car slowed to a stop, the brunette averting his gaze to outside of the window.

“We’re here.” The raven-haired man said, squeezing Niall’s knee absently, his gaze directed outside the window as well. “Remember, everything will be okay,” Zayn murmured, leaning forward to press a soft kiss against Niall’s lips, before getting out of the car to get their bags out of the trunk. Niall took a deep breath in, attempting to remind himself that things would be okay, especially considering all that they’d gone through in the past, before exiting the car as well.

“Wow,” Niall breathed, eyes widening slightly at the sight of the house, large and opulent, set nicely against the backdrop of Bradford’s clear, blue sky. “Yeah? You like it?” Zayn questioned, making his way over to Niall once their car had backed out of the driveway, handing the brunette’ bag to him. The house was truly a testament to Zayn’s selflessness, seeing as it was at least twice the size of his own home back in Los Angeles, which was already large enough to begin with. “It’s stunning, Z,” Niall said honestly, turning slightly to smile at the taller man.

“C’mon, then,” Zayn said, leading Niall to the front door of the house, reaching over to ring the doorbell. A brief moment passed before the door was being opened by Zayn’s mum, a smile immediately meeting the older woman’s lips at the sight of Zayn.

“Hi, sunshine,” She greeted gently, stepping forward to envelope the taller man into a hug. Niall watched as the two hugged, unable to help the smile that found his own lips at the endearing embrace. It’d been several years since he’d seen Trisha, and yet she was still practically glowing, as if it was 2010 and it was the first time that Niall was meeting her instead. After Zayn’s mum had let go of the other boy, she turned her attention to Niall, her smile only widening.

“It’s been so long since the last that I’ve seen you, love,” She remarked, urging him forward with a wave of her hand. “You’ve grown so much.” With that remark, she wrapped Niall up into a warm hug as well, the simple gesture enough to instantly put Niall at ease, to remind him that meeting Zayn’s mum didn’t have to be as large of a challenge as he’d built up in his head.

“Let me get a proper look at you, then,” Trisha said, releasing Niall and stepping back slightly to get a better look at him, her kind smile remaining. “I can’t believe how much you’ve matured, Niall, you look lovely.”

Niall smiled shyly, positive that his cheeks had to be flushed red by the compliment. “You look absolutely stunning as well, Trisha. Haven’t aged a day, have you?” He replied, grinning as the other woman playfully hit his arm, shaking her head as she let out a soft laugh. “That’s nonsense. Come in, come in,” Trisha led the pair into the house, which was even more stunning on the inside than from the outside, at least by Niall’s assessment. It was obvious to Niall where Zayn had gotten his eye for beauty from, considering that the interior of the house was decorated immaculately, every single ornate decoration having its own individual place in the house.

“The house is gorgeous, Trisha,” Niall commented as he toed off his sneakers, placing them next to the already existing neatly lined up row of shoes. “Thank you, love. It was all Zayn, really. He chose the perfect house,” She said graciously, the three of them making their way further into the house, Niall’s gaze drifting around the interior.

“Come off it, Mum. You’re the one that’s done all the decorating, like, this is the first time that I’m seeing it properly and everything looks sick, like, it’s proper decked out,” Zayn replied, brushing his fingers against one of the decorative bowls that had been placed on the kitchen counter. “Thank you, love,” Trisha said fondly, her smile warm and delicate, the corners of her eyes crinkling up in the exact same way that Zayn’s did.

“Everyone’s coming round for dinner tonight, so I’ve been working on marinating the meat and chopping the veggies and all that,” Trisha said, by way of explanation for the slightly disordered state of the kitchen, raising a hand up to gesture to the numerous bowls scattered throughout. “Are you boys hungry right now? I’m sure I’ve got something in the fridge,”

Before Trisha had a chance to open the refrigerator doors, Zayn stopped her, a soft chuckle leaving his lips. “No, Mum, we ate before we left.” The older man looked over at Niall, and the brunette nodded in confirmation, amused by how little things had changed. Trisha was still the same doting mother, dedicated to making sure that everyone around her was always comfortable and satiated.

“You two must be tired, then. I’m sure the flight was taxing. Let me get you settled in upstairs,” Trisha fretted, before turning and making her way out of the kitchen and towards the large staircase down the corridor. She was right about that; the flight had been around thirteen hours in total, so Niall was beyond tired, but it was only 1 P.M. in Bradford, so he felt slightly bad about asking for a nap. He absently thanked Zayn’s mum for being ever so perceptive, following her up the staircase to the second floor of the house, where the bedrooms were located. ”We’ve got a spare guest bedroom for you, Niall, but I’m afraid it’s quite small…”

“That’s okay, Mum.” Zayn cut in, directing his mum towards the other side of the floor instead. “He can stay with me, nothing we’re not already used to,” He said, presumably referring to their time in the band—though the words meant something entirely different to Niall. When met with Trisha’s apprehensive gaze, Niall bobbed his head in some semblance of a reassuring nod. “Really, it’s alright with me too.”

“Right, then,” Trisha said, though her tone was still quite uncertain, Niall not missing the doubtful glance that she threw over her shoulder at Zayn. Regardless, she led them to what Niall assumed had been designated as Zayn’s room, a guess that was confirmed as soon as the door was opened. “Sick,” Zayn murmured as they entered, his gaze wandering around the well-decorated room. “You’ve kept everything the same as the old house, like, it’s really nice.”

It was also obvious to Niall that not much had changed, from the graffiti art hung up on the walls to the tall stack of comic books placed neatly atop a desk. “I’ll let you both get settled in, then. Make sure that you get some sleep so you’re well rested for dinner tonight, okay?” Trisha said gently, hovering by the door of Zayn’s bedroom. “Thank you for everything, Trisha,” Niall replied, setting his packed bag atop the foot of Zayn’s bed. With that, Trisha closed the door behind her, leaving Zayn and Niall alone to their own devices.

“Sorry, she’s kind of overwhelming, like,” Zayn apologized distractedly, a soft chuckle leaving his lips as he set his own stuff down on the floor. “No, no, she was perfect. D’ya think she thought it was weird that we wanted to share a room?” Niall questioned, quirking an eyebrow at Zayn as he sat down atop his bed, the softness of Zayn’s mattress reminding him once again of the lack of sleep that he’d gotten on the flight. “Nah, she’s used to it. We’d share a room when you used to come visit as well, remember?”

“Yeah, but we don’t have to worry about a lack of space now,” Niall said cheekily, in reference to the unbelievable grandeur of the house, just the kind of place that Zayn had always vowed to buy for his mum one day. “I just really wanted to do something nice for her, like. She’s been working so hard lately, and with Saf’s daughter on the way at the time that I was thinking of buying it, I felt like it was the right choice.” Niall had only seen a handful of pictures of Zaneyah as a new-born from Zayn, but she was already about six-months old by now.

“C’mere,” Niall said, watching as the older man made his way over, gaze curious. Niall stood, wrapping his arms around the taller man’s neck, Zayn instinctively placing his hands on Niall’s waist in response. “I’m just really proud of you, Z. This house is everything you’ve ever wanted for your family and it’s obvious how happy your Mum is. I know that you sometimes feel as if you’re not doing enough in terms of your career but that’s bullshit, because _this,”_ Niall paused, raising a hand to gesture around the older man’s room. “To me, it says that you’ve been able to achieve what you always set out to do, and I don’t think you give yourself enough credit for it, t’be honest. I know that it can be difficult to see your self-worth at times but the fact that you beat yourself up over not being able to perform is just plain unfair, especially when you’ve been investing so much time into doing things for your family.”

Zayn’s eyes looked suspiciously misty by the end of Niall’s monologue, the older man shaking his head incredulously, as if he was in pure disbelief. “God, I don’t deserve you,” Zayn murmured, tone reverent as he leaned forward to connect their lips together into a tender kiss. Niall kissed him back unhurriedly, as if they had all the time in the world, something that the brunette was almost convinced at this point was true.

After a moment, Niall pulled away, mirroring the older man’s actions with a shake of his head as well. “If there’s anyone in this relationship that’s lucky, then it’s me, not you. Please never tell yourself that you’re not deserving of me, because that couldn’t be any farther from the truth. The fact that you were able to forgive me so quickly when, frankly, I was completely unworthy of it… I would’ve never been able to do the same.”

Zayn’s eyebrows furrowed down into a slight frown, his grip on Niall’s waist tightening, lower lip tucked in between his teeth. “It wasn’t, like, ever a question of forgiving you, I think that we both just needed some time. And I’ll keep that in mind, Niall. I’ve been trying to work on it, it’s just hard when you’ve told yourself for so long that you’re not deserving of… happiness? But I’ve been working on it, and I know that I’ve got a long way to go, but I _am_ trying, like. Thank you, though. I really am proud of the house and I’m glad that you like it as well.” A gentle smile found Niall’s lips at the older man’s words, his head bobbing in another assuring nod.

“Let’s get some sleep, yeah?” Zayn said, and with another brief kiss to Niall’s lips, the older man let go of Niall in favour of pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it carelessly on the ground. Niall didn’t particularly feel the need to change as he’d dressed comfortably for the flight, so he made his way over to the bed, getting in beneath the covers, eyes falling shut as soon as his head met the pillow.

Zayn followed suit once he’d closed the curtains and finished changing out of his clothes, leaning forward to press a soft kiss against Niall’s forehead. “Thank you.” Zayn repeated, the words so soft that Niall wasn’t sure if he was meant to hear them; so he kept his eyes closed, listening to the soft rustling of the comforter as Zayn turned, so that he was facing the other side of the bed.

Despite the fact that the other man did his best to conceal his true feelings, Niall knew Zayn well enough to know that he felt guilty about the fact that he wasn’t “doing” anything; that couldn’t be any farther from the truth, obviously, but it’d been more than a year since the release of Zayn’s sophomore album and he was currently on a hiatus. Meanwhile, Niall was only a few months away from the release date of his new album, wrapped up in constant promo, and he knew that it was weighing on the other man. All that Zayn wanted to do was tour his new album and to perform for his fans, but his anxiety stood in the way of letting him do what he truly wanted, and Niall couldn’t bear to watch the older man tear himself down over it.

Moreover, Zayn had told him that he’d made the decision to buy this house back when he was dating Gigi, in the hopes that the pair would be able to settle down nearby in the future; now that their relationship had fallen through and Zayn was also taking a break from his music, Niall _knew_ that he felt as if he’d failed in some way. Niall felt like it was his responsibility to reassure Zayn, to remind him of everything that he’d been able to achieve, to emphasize the incredibly positive impact that he’d had on the important people in his life, including Niall.

Niall couldn’t imagine that he’d been having all these destructive thoughts while he was in the band as well, coupled with the extreme stress of constantly having to live up to everything that their team demanded them to be. Niall _had_ struggled with self-esteem issues in the past, but not nearly to the extent that Zayn had. Insecurities still continued to eat away at Zayn, only made worse by the older man’s anxiety, and if Niall wasn’t there to dispel his worries, then Zayn would still constantly be telling himself that he wasn’t good enough.

The thought hurt Niall more than he thought it would. The brunette shifted forward slightly so that he could wrap an arm around Zayn’s slender waist, pulling the older man closer to his body. He could only hope that Zayn would one day be able to see his self-worth, because to Niall, the other boy was flawless, in every possible way. With that thought, drowsiness began to overwhelm him, thoughts of Zayn wandering through his mind as he drifted out of consciousness.

— *✲ﾟ*｡✧ — 

As it turned out, dinner with Zayn’s family wasn’t overwhelming at all. It didn’t take long for Waliyha’s icy stares to turn into practiced indifference, finally giving way to reluctant tolerance. She’d always been the most protective of her older brother so her behaviour towards Niall was completely justified in his eyes, but that didn’t stop Zayn from pulling her aside before dinner, hissing _Can you just try to be a little nicer, please?_ and acting as if Niall didn’t witness the whole interaction. He didn’t dare to imagine how the other girl would react if she was aware of the full extent of their relationship, so he accepted the harsh treatment, remaining amiable and hoping that Waliyha would eventually learn to warm up to him again.

What was most dumfounding to Niall was just how much Safaa had changed; the last that Niall saw of her, she was still only a child, filled with boundless energy and unrestrained enthusiasm. Now, she was a mother, entirely devoted to putting her child’s needs before her own and so unbelievably mature that it caught Niall completely off guard. It hurt, knowing that he’d been so detached from Zayn’s life that he never witnessed her transition from a child to a full-fledged mother. He could’ve been there for all of it, from the first news of the pregnancy to the extravagant wedding to the birth of Zaneyah; even it was just as a friend, being there for any part of it would have been better than not being there at all.

They’d lived their lives in sync for so long that being apart from each other for four years just felt _wrong_ , an imperceptible whisper in Niall’s head reminding him that he should’ve been there the whole time. While some things had changed, others were very much the same. Zayn was still the same overprotective brother that he’d always been, fussing over his sisters and ensuring that each of their lives were as comfortable as they could possibly be.

Witnessing the relationship that the older man had with his family reminded Niall that he hadn’t spoken to his own brother in months and hadn’t seen his parents in person in twice that amount of time. He’d never felt as if fame had significantly changed him in any way, but the genuine bond that Zayn shared with his family made him feel otherwise. It was apparent to him that Zayn had always had his priorities set straight, right from the start; Niall would be lying if he said that he’d never thought of it as selfish, but he realized now that it was anything but.

It was currently their third and final day in Bradford; somehow they’d actually managed to go out together a few times, seeing all the places that Zayn never got the chance to show him while they were in the band. Travelling around Asia had taught Niall that getting recognized was no longer the same concern that it’d once been, but he hadn’t realized that they would get the same treatment (or more accurately, the lack thereof) in the United Kingdom as well. Being with Zayn in Bradford almost made Niall feel as if he was no longer famous, completely separated from the buzz that typically accompanied his mere presence. It was a jarring change from what he’d become accustomed to, but it most certainly wasn’t a bad kind of different.

Zayn was visibly happier in Bradford, surrounded by his family and his friends in the place that he’d grown up in. Despite the fact that it was obviously not his fault, guilt nipped at Niall’s heels, unable to help himself from imagining what could have happened if Zayn had begun his career on his own terms. He would’ve never gone through even a fraction of the struggles that he faced while they were in the band, and seeing that now made Niall question if it was all ever really worth it, something that he’d never even thought to question before.

He’d told himself that he’d come to terms with Zayn’s departure _years_ ago, but the simple truth was that the marks that it’d left on him had never fully faded. Seeing Zayn like this now, though, still battling with insecurities that’d undoubtedly developed as a result of being thrown into the spotlight at such an early age, showed Niall that he was never the one that’d been hurt beyond repair. It’d always been Zayn, and the fact that it’d taken him so long to realize that seemed astonishing at this point.

Niall wanted to convey all of this to the other boy, to endlessly apologize for how coldly he’d treated him when he didn’t have a _single_ clue about what Zayn was actually going through, but he was afraid. He was afraid that Zayn would step back and realize how fucked this whole thing was, realize that Niall was beyond forgiving at this point and it was time to leave whatever feelings he thought he had for him in the past. Niall knew that it was the right thing to do, and it was what he would’ve done if he was in Zayn’s place. But Zayn wasn’t like that. When he truly cared for somebody, it was with his whole heart, and it’d never been any different with Niall. Even on that fateful day in September, the first time that they’d spoken properly in years, he hadn’t regarded Niall with even an ounce of maliciousness, gaze still as warm and caring as it always was, despite everything that’d happened between them.

Zayn had done a lot of growing up over the last four years, but Niall felt as if he’d been the one that’d matured significantly, just over the past few months. He couldn’t be more thankful that Zayn had reached out to him, and taking the other man for granted was completely out of the question this time around. It was scary, investing this much of his time and energy into one person, but Niall knew that he was making the right decision. He hadn’t been this genuinely happy in what felt like an _eternity_ by this point, barely making it by with artificial friendships and fake connections, most likely with people who had ulterior motives. Zayn didn’t expect a single thing from him, and that was what reassured Niall the most.

Niall was drawn out of his reverie by the sound of Zayn laughing, averting his gaze from the Tweet that he was crafting on his phone to the doorway of the dining room instead, curious about what the other man was up to. The brunette set his phone down on the dining room table before standing and making his way over to the living room, absently running his fingers over the ornate decorations that were hung up on the wall as he walked through the corridor.

Niall paused at the doorway, his heart swelling at the sight before him; Zayn had Zaneyah in his arms, a smile splitting the toddler’s face as the raven-haired man lifted her up in his arms, speaking to her in baby babble all the while. Though his back was turned to Niall, the brunette could clearly imagine the expression lining his features, as if the older man’s smile was permanently etched into the back of his mind.

The realization that the warm, heavy feeling deep in his chest was _love_ caught Niall completely by surprise—Niall was _in love_ with Zayn. It should’ve been more obvious, but the realization hit him like a ton of bricks, knocking his breath away and leaving him at a complete loss for words. The term had once been the most casual endearment between them, but now, the four letter word felt as if it possessed more power than Niall was truly equipped to handle. The brunette could feel it surrounding him, entirely overcome by the fact that he’d fallen in love with somebody who he’d once sworn never to speak to again. It was as if everything had begun to make sense, the devastating heartbreak that he’d felt when Zayn left now nothing more than a pure ghost of a memory in Niall’s mind.

“She’s precious, isn’t she?” Niall was snapped out of his trance by Trisha’s quietly spoken words, the older woman standing beside him with a soft smile settled on her lips. Embarrassment flooded throughout Niall as Trisha gave him a knowing glance, the brunette figuring that she’d been standing there for a bit longer than he’d realized. “Do you think you could give me a hand in the kitchen, love?” She asked kindly, and Niall hummed in assent, bobbing his head in a nod before turning to follow Trisha down the corridor.

“I would’ve asked Waliyha to do it but she’s gone out with a friend,” She apologized absently as she handed Niall a knife and a carrot, her own station set up in front of her with a number of vegetables already chopped up, presumably for lunchtime. Niall got to work, relative silence floating over the two as they cut up the vegetables, the brunette settling into a steady pace. Thoughts of Zayn continued to flit throughout Niall’s mind as he worked, unable to help himself from wondering whether he’d gotten everything completely wrong.

“Niall, love, do you think that I could talk to you about something?” Trisha questioned, breaking the silence that’d settled between the two, her tone inquisitive. She had set down her knife and turned slightly so that she was facing Niall, worrying her lower lip in between her teeth. Though Niall didn’t have a clue what she was leading up to, his pulse began to quicken beneath his skin, the mere question enough to make him irrationally nervous about whatever was set to follow. He did his best not to let it show, simply breathing in evenly through his nose before setting his knife down as well. “Of course, Trisha, anything,”

“I just wanted to tell you that Zayn’s been awful secretive about how things have been going for him, as of late.” She started, tone not giving anything away as her gaze rested on Niall, lips upturned into a slight, encouraging smile. “Okay?” Niall replied, confusion accenting the word as he tilted his head slightly, unsure of what exactly she was getting at. As far as he knew, despite the fact that he’d told Zayn that he could tell his mum about the nature of their relationship, the older man hadn’t actually done it yet, worried about making Niall uncomfortable while he was there; so he didn’t have a clue what the other woman was referring to.

“Regardless of what he’s not telling me, and for whatever reason that may be, I just wanted to thank you for making him so happy,” The older woman’s words dropped to a whisper, despite the fact that no one else in the house would be able to hear them unless they were in the kitchen as well. “I know things were hard for you lot when Zayn left, but he felt _horrible_ about how everything happened, I’d never seen anything like it. He was like a completely different person when he came back home to us in March, so withdrawn into himself that I felt as if I couldn’t even recognize my own son anymore,” Trisha’s voice broke, shaking her head slightly as her eyes brimmed over with tears. Guilt flooded throughout Niall, the brunette feeling as if he was severely unequipped to deal with the situation at hand.

“Sorry, sorry, I’m a mess.” A watery laugh left the other woman’s lips as she raised a hand to wipe at her eyes, shaking her head once again. “I’m just so glad that the two of you have reconnected, Niall. You really meant a lot to him whilst you were in the band together, and I know that he still feels bad about the way that everything transpired afterwards. I’m finally seeing _my son_ again, the one that I’d had before all of the fame, and I think that a large part of that is due to you. I don’t know how to make it any clearer to him, but I’d like you to know that I support him whole-heartedly and I always will. And…” Her voice became quieter again, pausing as if she was taking a moment to consider her next words carefully. “I support all of the choices that he makes, as well. And there’s nothing more that I want than for the two of you to be happy, alright?”

Niall stood there, completely dumfounded, unable to do much more than nod in response. The fact that Trisha approved of their relationship meant more to Niall than he could ever hope to convey in words; he’d forgotten momentarily that he was dealing with Zayn’s mum, someone who knew the raven-haired man inside-out, better than he knew himself. And if she, of all people, felt that their relationship was a positive influence on Zayn, then there was no reason that Niall had to possess even an ounce of doubt in his own feelings.

Before the brunette had a chance to respond properly, the sound of the front door opening and closing made its way through the kitchen doorway, Trisha turning away from Niall to pick up her tray of freshly chopped vegetables. “That must be Waliyha, I should set the table for lunch. Could you get the other tray for me please, love?”

Niall simply nodded again, his mouth seemingly not having caught up with his brain yet, picking up the other tray of vegetables. Trisha gave the brunette another knowing smile before she made her way out of the kitchen and towards the dining room instead. Niall inhaled sharply through his nose, taking a moment to collect himself before following Trisha out of the kitchen, pulse still thrumming beneath his skin, but for a different reason this time around.

Zayn joined his side as Niall set the tray of vegetables down on the dining room table, giving Niall a quizzical look as he stole a cucumber slice, tilting his head slightly towards his mum. The brunette simply shook his head, conveying a look to Zayn that meant that he would tell him about it later. He couldn’t get rid of the smile that persisted on his lips throughout lunch, as it’d become increasingly evident to him then that being with Zayn didn’t have to be a colossal mountain to scale, especially not when they had so much support backing them.

It was only later on in the evening, when the two found themselves in Zayn’s room for their last full night in Bradford, the brunette having just returned from a shower, when they got the chance to talk about it. He locked the door behind him, turning as Zayn spoke. “What were you and my Mum chatting about in the kitchen, then?” A slight smile met Niall’s lips at the older man’s question, shoulders lifting in a light shrug as he regarded Zayn, who was sitting on his desk chair, open laptop set in front of him on the table.

“We were talking about you…” Niall replied teasingly, moving forward so that he could settle himself down in Zayn’s lap, legs splayed out on either side of him. “Yeah? What about me?” Zayn responded as his hands instinctively found Niall’s waist, gripping onto him firmly. “About what a good influence I am on you. And how happy I make you,” Niall said playfully, only half-joking, a smile finding his lips as Zayn chuckled softly. With that, he leaned down so that he could connect their lips together into a soft kiss, humming contentedly into the kiss as Zayn’s fingers crept down to his hips instead.

The older man pulled away, a genuine smile on his lips as he looked up at Niall, eyes practically shining beneath the bright, fluorescent lights of his room. “You do make me happy, Niall. Really happy.” The brunette responded by leaning forward and nuzzling their noses together gently, his heart doing a little flutter in his chest at Zayn’s responding soft chuckle. The brunette leaned in to connect their lips together once more, tilting his head as the older man gripped the back of Niall’s neck instead, his fingers spread out against his neck to pull him closer.

Niall whined quietly against Zayn’s lips as he kissed him more fully, the older man licking into his mouth while his hold on his neck tightened. The brunette unconsciously shifted his weight down onto the other boy’s lap, breaking the kiss to moan quietly into his neck at the feeling of Zayn pressed against him. Zayn returned the gesture by tightening his hold on Niall’s hips, a soft sound of his own escaping the older man’s lips as Niall ground down properly in his lap. “What do you want?” Zayn asked lowly, honey practically dripping off of the murmured words as he looked up at Niall, pupils dilated.

Despite everything, they hadn’t actually had sex yet. Niall sometimes felt as if their relationship was moving in reverse, considering the fact that they were slowly learning once again how to be with each other, having grown accustomed to spending all of their time together for four whole years and then suddenly being torn apart. But looking at Zayn now, mussed hair, hooded eyes, full lips, Niall couldn’t think of anything that he wanted more, especially now that the word _love_ was just on the tip of his tongue.

Niall bit down on his lower lip as his eyes flickered down, bringing a hand up to absently run his fingers through his hair. “You wouldn’t… you wouldn’t happen to have…” Niall trailed off, gesturing with a wave of his hand, in the hopes that Zayn would understand what he was getting at. The older man just looked confused though, eyebrows knitting down into a slight frown as his head tilted slightly in confusion. “For us to… y’know?” Niall knew that it was a long shot but he watched as realization slowly spread across Zayn’s features, the older man’s eyebrows raised.

“You want to have sex?” The raven-haired man questioned bluntly, tone surprised, absently squeezing Niall’s waist with his hand. Rather than responding with words, the brunette simply nodded, red crawling up his neck because of the way that Zayn was looking at him. “If that’s a possibility,” Niall replied, lifting his shoulders in a shrug as he averted his gaze down to their laps, unable to meet Zayn’s intense, focused gaze.

“Actually, I might have…” Zayn trailed off, glancing over to his opened suitcase that was resting on the floor, clothes piled around the piece of luggage. “Get up for a minute, yeah?” The older man said, urging him up with a hand on his lower thigh. Niall did as told, suddenly feeling a little bit lightheaded at the prospect of actually having sex with the other boy, unable to stop the graphic images of Zayn inside of him that began to flash through his mind.

He watched as the older man rummaged through one of the compartments of his suitcase, seemingly finding what he was looking for as he paused, lifting his hand up to show Niall an unopened condom packet placed gingerly between his fingers. Niall didn’t feel the need to question it, well aware of the requirements of the lifestyle that they lived, simply nodding his head as the older man regained his position on his feet, lower lip tucked in between his teeth apprehensively. “Niall...”

Niall crossed the few steps of the room required to stand in front of Zayn, so close to the older man that he could practically count every single golden fleck lining his hazel eyes. “Zayn.” He said quietly, hoping that his tone came off as reassuring as he intended for it to be. “I promise that I want this. And I’ve wanted it for a while now, so don’t make that face at me,” Niall said teasingly, lifting his hand up to gently run his thumb over the other boy’s bottom lip, a soft smile meeting Zayn’s lips in response. “I just, like, don’t want you to have to feel rushed into anything—”

Niall cut Zayn off by stepping forward and wrapping his arms around the taller man’s neck, pulling him closer and connecting their lips together in a kiss that was more forceful than the previous ones. Zayn responded readily, letting his tongue dip inside Niall’s mouth as he fit his hands around his waist, humming approvingly into the kiss. When Niall pulled away this time around, Zayn looked a whole lot more convinced, the brunette nodding his head once more to accentuate the point. 

“Come on, then,” Zayn said softly, urging the brunette toward the bed with a steady hand on his lower waist. He set the condom packet down on the bedside table before slipping his shirt over his body, Niall’s gaze automatically dropping to take in inches and inches of tattooed skin, still caught off guard every time by how good Zayn looked shirtless. There was a slight smirk on Zayn’s lips as he helped Niall get his shirt off as well, the brunette flushing red at having obviously been caught staring. The brunette raised his arms up to help the other man get along with removing his shirt, a whine caught in his throat as Zayn connected their lips together immediately after.

Zayn kept their lips connected as he led Niall towards the bed, hands travelling down Niall’s body to palm him through his trousers, grip gentle but still purposeful as he touched him. Niall moaned right into the kiss, his parted lips seemingly the perfect opportunity for Zayn to slip his tongue into Niall’s mouth once again, nudging his knee in between the brunette’s parted legs to provide Niall some much-needed relief.

Once Zayn pulled away from the kiss, Niall scrambled on top of the bed, Zayn’s lips on his own before he even had a second to catch his breath. The frantic pace that the other boy was setting had Niall’s mind going blank with pleasure, thoughts consumed by Zayn and only Zayn. Zayn pulled away once more, fingers deft as he undid Niall’s belt and tossed it haphazardly on the floor. Niall watched, chest heaving with the force of his breaths, as the raven-haired man slowly removed his boxers, gaze concentrated as he trailed his fingers over Niall’s cock. He paused, reaching over to retrieve the small bottle of lube that he’d brought along, getting a small amount out before rubbing the substance between his fingers in order to warm it up. With that, he properly wrapped his fingers around Niall’s cock, grip tight as he stroked him to full hardness.

A noisy groan escaped Niall’s lips at Zayn’s skilful touch, the older man’s gaze flickering up to him warningly. “I’m going to need you to be quiet, love,” The older man murmured, his focused gaze and soft-spoken words enough to make Niall’s heartbeat quicken in his chest, unable to do much more than nod in response to the command. The next time that Zayn stroked his cock, the brunette supressed a whimper in his throat, warmth blooming in his chest at Zayn’s responding proud smile. Despite the fact that it was only a hand job, Niall still felt as if he was falling apart in Zayn’s hands, every stroke pushing him closer and closer to the edge.

“Zayn, please,” Niall whined, reaching down to wrap his fingers around the older man’s wrist, hoping that his voice conveyed just how _wrecked_ he currently felt, desperate for more than Zayn’s hand on his cock. All he wanted was Zayn’s fingers inside of him instead, unable to rid himself of the thought now that it’d entered his mind. “Sorry, love,” Zayn apologized absently, pressing a gentle kiss to Niall’s thigh before reaching over and getting some more lube out on his fingers.

Zayn rubbed at Niall’s entrance delicately with the pads of his fingers, encouraging Niall to open up for him with a few murmured praises. They’d done this enough times before for the stretch to not be as painful as it once was for Niall, the brunette begging for another finger and Zayn obliging immediately. The initial pain from the stretch subsided and was replaced entirely with pleasure instead, especially with the way that Zayn was crooking his fingers inside of him, Niall feeling as if his fingers were pressed directly against his prostate. Niall had to fight to keep his whines to himself, his body completely overwhelmed by the feeling of three of Zayn’s fingers deep inside of him, making him feel fuller than he’d ever felt before.

“Christ, you’re beautiful,” Zayn breathed, pushing his fingers deeper into Niall, holding down Niall’s leg to the bed with his other hand, fingers clenched tightly against his skin. “I’ve been wanting this too, like, so bad. The way that you look sometimes, Niall, God, can’t keep my hands off of you,” Zayn murmured, the older man’s voice low and velvety smooth, practically making Niall feel as if the quietly-spoken words were having a more profound impact on him than his fingers.

“Keep talking, please,” The brunette choked out, grinding down on Zayn’s fingers and gritting his teeth at just how all-consuming it felt to have the older man inside of him like this. Zayn obliged, leaning in first to suck a dark mark onto Niall’s thigh, the mauve tint of the bruise a stark contrast against his pale skin. “Mine, you’re _mine_. Knew from the beginning, didn’t I? Right from the start, like, just knew that we were meant to be together,” Zayn was mindlessly speaking but every word of his brought Niall closer to the edge, having to bite down on the inside of his cheek as Zayn got his other hand around Niall’s cock once again.

“Zayn, fuck, come on,” Niall groaned out, unable to wait a moment longer, voice practically dripping with desperation. It wasn’t as if this was his first time having sex, far from it, but that was how it felt, completely overwhelming and all-encompassing in a way that Niall wasn’t used to, from the depth of Zayn’s gaze to his low, silky voice. “Christ, okay,” Zayn stumbled over his words as he removed his fingers, and Niall was absently thankful that the older man looked just as ruined as Niall felt, pupils blown black and lips bitten raw.

Niall watched as Zayn stood, the older man pulling down his shorts and boxers completely, the brunette’s eyes travelling down his bare body. Zayn reached over to grab the condom from the bedside table before regaining his place on the bed, opening the packet up with shaky fingers. The taller man stroked himself a few times, lower lip tucked in between his teeth as he secured the condom delicately onto himself. Niall felt absolutely spoiled by the show that he was getting, committing the picture to his mind and distantly hoping that it would never leave his memory. Zayn was _flawless_ , in every sense of the word, and Niall honestly wasn’t sure what he’d done to be in possession of the beautiful man in front of him, pure adoration coursing through his entire body.

After a few moments, Zayn manhandled Niall into his lap, the younger man’s legs positioned on either side of his waist. “Ready, Niall?” Zayn asked quietly, gaze concentrated as he took his cock in between his fingers, eyebrows raised slightly as if to reconfirm that this was what Niall truly wanted. Niall nodded desperately, anticipating thrumming beneath his skin and making him feel as if everything around him had been amplified by a few notches, from the shallow breaths that Zayn was taking to the mild scent of vanilla clinging to his skin.

It was as if Niall could feel every single inch of Zayn entering him, the stretch unbelievably different from Zayn’s slender fingers. He hadn’t been with a man like this for at least a few years now, but Zayn had prepped him so well that the pain was nowhere near as excruciating as Niall knew that it could be, the feeling more _overwhelming_ than anything else. Zayn stayed still as Niall got his bearings, the way that the older man was looking down at him enough to make Niall want to forget everything and just ask Zayn to _fuck him_.

It took a few more moments before Niall was able to speak, gritting out _move, please,_ from between clenched teeth, hooking his arms over Zayn’s shoulders in an attempt to regain some amount of control over the situation, pulling him closer to connect their lips together into a kiss that was all teeth and tongue. Niall gasped right into Zayn’s mouth as the other man shifted inside of Niall, the movement calculated. It was the sudden onslaught of pleasure that had Niall whining against Zayn’s mouth, breath knocked out of his chest at the feeling of Zayn completely sheathed inside of him. 

Zayn’s movements were slow at first, pace relaxed to allow Niall time to get used to the feeling, but it wasn’t long before the brunette was begging for Zayn to go faster, ready to take more. Zayn obliged, quickening his pace and putting more weight into his thrusts. Niall’s hands scrabbled for purchase on the older man’s back, feeling as if his nerves were rewiring themselves from the inside out, curses leaving his mouth on impulse. Niall was convinced that nothing had ever felt quite so good and never would again, their kiss turning sloppy as Niall panted breathlessly against Zayn’s mouth. 

“You feel, God, Niall,” Zayn stammered, hips picking up speed against Niall, the black of his pupils swallowing up his otherwise hazel eyes. “Fuck, you’re perfect. Made for me,” The older man moaned out, before leaning down to press an open-mouthed kiss against Niall’s neck, the feeling of Zayn’s tongue on his skin enough to make Niall practically tremble in Zayn’s arms, overwhelmed by the multiple sensations.

Zayn cursed quietly at the feeling of Niall around him, movements becoming more erratic and rushed, jaw clenched as he stared down at Niall. Niall knew that there was no chance of him lasting very long at all, considering the fact that he’d been on edge before Zayn even entered him, but the feeling was even more intensified now, with the way that Zayn was moving deep inside of him. “Faster, Zayn,” Niall choked out, the older man responding immediately by speeding up, altering his angle slightly so that it felt as if he was hitting his prostate with every single thrust.

Niall was unable to stop the loud groan that escaped his lips at a particularly deep thrust, the older man immediately clamping his hand over Niall’s mouth in response, the feeling of his palm pressed against his mouth making Niall’s stomach bottom out in pleasure. Zayn quirked an eyebrow at Niall, as if to ask whether the restraint was okay, and the brunette nodded in response, his next moan muffled completely by Zayn’s hand.

Niall’s lips parted, and almost as if in command, Zayn pushed his pointer and middle fingers deep into Niall’s mouth, gaze narrowing at the sight. Niall did his best to suck on Zayn’s fingers, his stomach tightening with his impending orgasm, the simultaneous feeling of Zayn’s fingers and cock entirely too much for him to handle. His mind was but a running litany of _ZaynZaynZayn_ , his brain unable to form any more comprehensible sentences. Zayn let out a soft, ruined noise of his own as Niall choked on his fingers, the brunette’s face flushed red from the exertion.

With that, Zayn withdrew his grip to take Niall’s cock in his hand once more, Niall babbling out mindless curses at the much-needed relief on his cock. It only took a few strokes for Niall to come all over Zayn’s hand, the sensation of the younger man clenching around Zayn’s cock enough to push him off of the edge as well, coming only a few moments after Niall had finished coming down. Niall felt as if his breath had been completely knocked out of him, the feeling of Zayn pulsing inside of him one that he’d constantly crave now.

If Niall was being honest, he wasn’t exactly sure how the next few minutes progressed, feeling completely worn-out from his orgasm, feeling as if his surroundings were moving in slow motion. He was only vaguely aware of Zayn pulling out, padding across the room to get a washcloth, gently wiping Niall down. Niall felt as if he was coming down from a different type of high as he laid on the bed, his breathing slowly evening out before returning to normal. By the time that Zayn re-joined him in bed, having switched off the lights, Niall felt completely sated, as if everything around him had been doused in honey.

“That was unbelievable, babes,” Zayn murmured, lifting a hand up to gently caress Niall’s cheekbone between his thumb and forefinger, leaning forward to press a soft kiss against Niall’s lips. The brunette hummed into the kiss, wrapping an arm around Zayn’s middle beneath the covers to get closer to him. “Thank you.” Niall said quietly after he pulled away, hoping that Zayn would understand that he was thanking him for far more than just the sex. Judging by the force of Zayn’s answering smile, Niall knew that the message was more than clear.

The brunette lifted a hand to run his fingers through Zayn’s hair, absently stroking the short hair at the base of his scalp, his eyes sweeping across Zayn’s faultless features. “I love you.” The hushed words left Niall before his brain had really caught up with his mouth, the declaration an impulse that he couldn’t control even if he wanted to.

“I love you too, Niall.” Zayn responded immediately, not an ounce of hesitation present in his words as he regarded the other man. “Think I’ve loved you for a while, if I’m being honest,” Zayn confessed quietly, lower lip tucked in between his teeth as his warm gaze met Niall’s. “Is that okay?” He questioned after a brief moment of silence, eyebrows furrowed down into a slight frown, as if he was afraid of how Niall would react.

“Yes, Zayn, it is.” Niall said in confirmation, voice just as soft, adoration practically flowing from his fingertips as he ran them over Zayn’s cheek, his touch featherlight. “Okay,” Zayn murmured as he intertwined their fingers together, their hands fitting together as if they were made for each other, perfectly moulded like missing puzzle pieces. In Niall’s mind, it wouldn’t be a stretch to say that that was true.

“Okay.” Niall repeated softly, a gentle smile meeting his lips as he squeezed Zayn’s hand. Sleep began to overcome him them, though he didn’t want to close his eyes, fearful of missing out on even a single moment of Zayn’s beauty. There was nothing else that Niall could fathom wanting at that point of time, so genuinely happy that he could feel it down to his bones. He couldn’t remember the last time that he’d felt this content _,_ and knowing that Zayn felt the same way made things that much better for him. In contrast to the usual anxiety that nipped at his heels before he went to bed, thoughts of _love_ and _commitment_ plagued Niall’s mind instead, and he’d be lying if he said that it wasn’t an entirely welcome change.

— *✲ﾟ*｡✧ — 

In reality, it wasn’t long before the idyllic fantasy that Niall found himself in turned to complete shit. The young man was due on a flight to San Francisco the next day, still in the middle of his promo run, but Zayn was staying in Bradford for another full day before returning to Los Angeles. Zayn and Trisha saw Niall off the next morning, a bittersweet tinge to the older woman’s smile as she folded Niall into a warm hug, insisting that he’d have to visit again soon. The brunette couldn’t think of anything that he wanted more, nodding keenly in response, further emboldened by the sincerity of Zayn’s gaze as he watched them.

Zayn wrapped Niall into a hug as well, murmuring a hushed _love you_ into his ear as he squeezed him, having already expanded upon that sentiment in bed that morning, Zayn’s reverent tone and delicate words still engraved in Niall’s mind. Niall could feel it encompassing him, the feeling of truly being in love with somebody who felt the exact same way about him. Despite everything that came with Zayn’s departure, the heartbreak, the betrayal, the overwhelming hurt of it all, Niall felt as if nothing in his life had ever made more sense, as if this was how things were always meant to be after all.

Niall couldn’t stop himself from wondering what would’ve happened had the two actually acknowledged their feelings whilst they were in the band, whether things would’ve been completely different or very much the same. All that he knew for certain was that he’d never felt this way about somebody before, the feeling making him see things in a way that Niall didn’t even know was possible. It should’ve been obvious to him, then, that something would have to come along to fuck things up.

The affliction came in the form of Niall’s phone crashing; the brunette was mindlessly scrolling through his Twitter feed while spread out across his hotel bed, attempting to distract himself from counting down the days until he could be back in LA. It wasn’t as if it was out of the ordinary that his Twitter notifications were blowing up, Niall accustomed to the countless mentions that he would receive every day, but something sat heavy in his stomach as he rebooted the app, suddenly feeling as if it may not have been as typical as he’d assumed it was. Niall’s suspicions were confirmed by the first Tweet that popped up on his timeline, his heart dropping to his stomach like a rock.

 **@NiallHoranNews:** _Niall Horan and Zayn Malik spotted out and about in Bradford last week!_

The tweet was accompanied with a number of pictures of the pair, grainy but very obviously still _them_ , walking along a dimly-lit pathway. It was as if everything in that moment came crashing down, every single attempt to keep their relationship private rendered completely useless. It wasn’t as if they were holding hands or doing anything obvious that would suggest the true nature of their relationship, but the fact that there were pictures of them _together in Bradford_ ; it was obvious to anybody looking that they’d been in contact for a while now. Niall hadn’t breathed a single word about reconnecting with Zayn to _anybody_ in his life, and it’d all been unravelled by a few pictures on Twitter.

It shouldn’t have been a big deal; Niall _knew_ that it shouldn’t have been a big deal, but that didn’t prevent him from feeling as if it was, their reunion something that he’d intended to be kept under wraps until he was comfortable with others knowing. It wasn’t meant to happen like this, especially not when things had been going so well for them, genuine contentedness finding its way into Niall’s life for the first time in ages.

Niall was certain that Zayn hadn’t seen the pictures yet, considering the fact that he didn’t even have the Twitter app installed on his phone anymore, usually logging in from Niall’s phone every once in a while to reassure his fans that he was very much alive and well. All things considered, Niall didn’t think that Zayn would be as affected upon finding out as Niall was; despite the fact that Zayn did his best to hide it, it was obvious to Niall that the other man felt as if he was keeping their relationship a secret because he thought that Zayn wasn’t good enough. Though Niall wanted to reassure Zayn, insist to him that that couldn’t be any farther from the truth, his actions didn’t seem to back up his words in any way, so he kept the seemingly pointless sentiment to himself.

In actual fact, Niall was simply afraid of how others would react. The fallout from the breakup of their band had been so publicly broadcasted that it was difficult to come back from, Niall never before having to deal with the complexities of what would undoubtedly be a widely publicized reunion. And with that uncharted territory came another string of unanswered questions, both of them having to deal with the public response to their coming out, regardless of whether it was all positive or negative. The mere thought of it gave Niall a headache, but what was troubling his mind the most at that moment were the few unread messages popping up on his home-screen, the brunette overwhelmed with a complete sense of impending trepidation.

The one person that he was dreading hearing from the most was obviously the source of the unread messages, Niall’s eyebrows furrowing down into a deep frown at the mere sight of Louis’ name at the top of his screen. Before opening Louis’ message, Niall clicked on his message thread with Zayn instead, taking his lower lip in between his teeth as he stared at the bright phone screen. Zayn was likely busy with his family, spending his last few hours in Bradford before his flight back home, but Niall felt that it was important to let him know, either way.

 **Niall:** _Some pictures of us from Bradford got posted on Twitter ._

 **Niall:** _Don’t kno what I’m meant to do , if I’m being honest_

Niall could already anticipate Zayn’s response, knew that he would be overtly apologetic about the entire situation, considering that he’d been the one to convince Niall to go out in the first place. In all fairness, the pictures looked as if they’d been taken by a fan, rather than any actual photographers or paparazzi, the quality of the pictures nowhere near good enough to make it seem as if they were professionally taken. Niall didn’t blame the other man one bit, knowing that they couldn’t have been any more careful if they’d tried, but knowing Zayn, the other man would still take full responsibility for it either way.

With that thought, Niall inhaled harshly through his nose before switching to his message thread with Louis, biting down hard enough on his bottom lip to draw blood. The other man had sent him a link to the same Tweet that Niall had come across just now, a single word accompanying the text message; _Seriously ?_

“Fuck,” Niall muttered under his breath, raising a hand to rub at his temples, the throes of an impending migraine already beginning to nip behind his eyes. To Niall, it was obvious that the message was only a thinly veiled concealment of the true extent of Louis’ anger—or perhaps it was disappointment, and honestly, Niall was unsure of which outcome he would prefer more. The explosive way with which Zayn and Louis’ relationship had fallen apart meant that Louis would never find it in himself to forgive Zayn again, and Niall _knew_ that. Yet there he was, pictured in Bradford with the other man, when he hadn’t given Louis a single indication that they’d reconnected. Niall knew that it made him look like a complete asshole, and he also knew that if he was going to tell Louis the truth, he was going to have to tell him the _full truth_.

Unease settled beneath Niall’s skin as he took a deep breath in, before pressing on the call button next to Louis’ name, bringing the phone up to his ear. It was only a few rings before the call was picked up, Louis’ quiet breathing meeting Niall’s ears from the other line. “Hello?” Niall greeted, nervously running his fingers over the cotton comforter of his bed, bottom lip worried in between his teeth.

“Really, Niall?” Came Louis’ cold response after a brief moment of silence, Niall practically able to _hear_ the complete apathy in his tone. He’d never before been on the receiving end of Louis’ wrath before, and he had the slightest inclination of the feeling that he would never want to be again, after this. “Louis, I—”

“Did it ever cross your mind that I’d possibly want to know that you got in touch with Zayn again?” Louis asked quietly, words calculated as if he’d already thought of what he was going to say prior to the phone call. Niall stayed quiet, unsure of how to respond, guilt beginning to eat at his edges. Now that he was actually here, he wasn’t so sure if telling Louis about the actual extent of their relationship was the best idea, considering the way that he was reacting at the mere prospect of a _friendship_ between the two. “What were you doing with him in Bradford, Niall?”

“I don’ know what to say, Lou,” Niall responded slowly, stalling for time as he racked his mind for what he could possibly say to diffuse the situation, what would result in the least damage and ensure that their friendship remained unharmed by the end of the conversation. In all honesty, Niall wasn’t sure if that was even a possibility. “He reached out to me and we got to properly talking again, that’s it.” The words sounded paper thin, even to his own ears, but he wasn’t sure what else there was to say without giving everything away and possibly making things worse. “That’s it?” Louis repeated, a mirthless chuckle accompanying the soft-spoken words. “How does that explain you being in Bradford?”

“We’re friends again, uh, we made up. I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you about it, but I didn’t know how to. I didn’t ever mean for it to be a secret, things just got out of hand and then I didn’t know how to deal with it, okay? I wasn’t trying to keep anything from you,” Niall fumbled with his words as he spoke, absently running his fingers through his hair as he averted his gaze to outside of the hotel window, distantly glad that the pictures hadn’t leaked whilst he was actually still in Bradford, uncertain about how Zayn would feel about all of this. It was the one topic that they had steered completely clear from, and for good reason, judging by the way that Louis was speaking to him.

“What, so did he apologize to you? That’s rich, isn’t it,” Louis remarked, likely in reference to the apology that he’d been waiting on but had never received. “No, he didn’t, Louis,” Niall answered honestly, though he kept the rest of his answer unspoken, _and I realized that he never had to, in the first place._ It wasn’t Niall’s place to tell Louis how to feel about what happened with Zayn, but he had spent the last few months coming to the realization that they way that they had treated Zayn was wrong, something that he couldn’t expect the other man to understand over the phone, not at this point.

“I don’t know how else to explain it. I’m sorry that I kept it under wraps, but… I really care about him, Louis. You know how hard it was for me when he left the band, I couldn’t just ignore the message and pretend that it never happened.” Niall paused, heart beating so loud that he was almost convinced that the other man could hear it over the phone. “There’s something that I need to tell you…”

Before Niall had a chance to say anything, Louis cut him off, another harsh chuckle leaving his lips. “The only reason that it was hard for you was because _he_ made it hard, Niall. Things didn’t have to go the way that they did if he hadn’t acted like a complete dickhead afterwards. I don’t understand how you can find it in yourself to forgive him when he hasn’t even properly apologized yet. It’s been four years of nothing but bullshit from his end, and the fact that you’re willing to just let all of that go, it doesn’t… it doesn’t sit right with me.” Disappointment was evident in Louis’ tone, and guilt once again began to bite at Niall for making Louis upset in the first place. Niall was brought back to the days following Zayn’s departure, when Louis was the only person that was there for him through the difficult time, helping Niall relearn how to be himself again without someone that he’d always thought of as an irreplaceable part of their band.

Though Niall had never explicitly told Louis that he suspected that he had feelings for Zayn whilst they were in the band, he wouldn’t be surprised if Louis knew more than he sometimes let on, considering the way that he’d taken care of Niall after Zayn left. It was only after the older man’s departure that he realized that his feelings had crossed the line between a friendship and _something more_ , but by then, it was far too late for him to do anything about it. He didn’t have the courage to tell Louis about how he truly felt either, but Niall was certain that the other man had gotten the hint when he listened to his album for the first time. However, now that the mere prospect of Niall having non-platonic feelings had turned into a very concrete reality, the brunette wasn’t sure how to go about dealing with it. “I know that you want the best for me, Louis, I understand that. But I know what I’m doing and things are different this time around, okay?”

“Different in what way?” Niall’s silence in response to the biting question must’ve given Louis the answer that he was looking for, because the other man’s words were suddenly tinged with realization. “Oh my God, were you visiting his family? Is that what you were doing in Bradford? Why would you be…” Louis trailed off and Niall stayed silent, the brunette biting down on his lip as he averted his gaze down to his lap, blood rushing in his ears. “You’re not… Both of you aren’t—”

“We’re seeing each other, Louis.” Niall cut the other man off, regret engulfing him almost as soon as the words left his mouth. He was met with silence on the other line, the complete quiet somehow more disconcerting than Louis’ anger. Niall stood, restlessly beginning to pace around his hotel room, feeling as if this conversation was going to make him lose his mind. “Say something, please,” The brunette said in desperation, stilling to a halt in the middle of the large room, eyebrows furrowed down into a frown.

“When those pap pictures of you got out, the ones of you at the LAX airport,” Niall vaguely remembered what Louis was referring to, the ones of him with the love bites on his neck. “That… that wasn’t because of Zayn, was it?” The question had Niall’s frown deepening, unsure of what exactly the other man was getting at. He still mumbled a _yes_ in response, bringing a hand up to his mouth to absently nibble at his thumbnail, mind racing with far too many thoughts to comprehend at once. “Christ, Niall. That was almost three months ago. Three fucking months ago. How long has this been going on?”

“He messaged me on my birthday.” Niall said quietly, voice small and barely above a whisper. Niall felt like the shittiest person in the world, Louis’ icy tone only adding to the feeling. “It’s nearly the end of December.” Louis mumbled, the words reminding Niall that Louis’ birthday was only a few days away, something that he had completely forgotten about because of how wrapped up he’d been in his time with Zayn. It was almost comical, the way that the realization captured the bitter satire of the situation so well.

He’d been so caught up in his relationship with Zayn that he’d entirely fucked over his existing friendship with Louis, someone that he’d sworn he would be there for no matter what. After everything that Louis and Zayn had been through, especially with regards to the collapse of their once believed everlasting bond, rekindling his relationship with Zayn was practically the biggest form of betrayal.

“Mate, I need you to know that this runs deeper than the way that he left the band or anything else that happened afterwards. I think you’re forgetting the fact that he wasn’t there for me when I needed him most. I was hoping that he’d be able to put aside all of the childish drama and just be there to support me during my X-Factor performance, and he couldn’t even do that much. How can you expect me to sit here and attempt to try to understand your relationship when I know, all too well, what kind of a person he is? He left the band when we _needed_ him and just when I thought that he wouldn’t do it again, he did. How do you know that he’s not going to do the same thing to you once he loses interest, hm?”

Niall’s eyes brimmed over with tears, the jarring words making the brunette feel as if his heart had been shattered into a thousand pieces. There was a reason that him and Zayn had avoided speaking about the sore subject of Louis, and Niall had just now realized that it was because Zayn would never be able to justify his actions, when they were so obviously misguided. Niall didn’t respond, didn’t think that he even knew how to, sniffling into the phone as he rubbed a lone tear away from his cheek. He felt ridiculous, having fooled himself into a false sense of security when things were anything but.

“Shit,” Louis swore, voice wavering slightly, as if the older man had gotten up and was moving to another room. “I wasn’t trying to make you upset, that’s the last thing that I want to do. I’m just trying to prevent you from getting hurt, because you don’t deserve that, not now and not ever. Please just properly think about it, alright? I want you to be happy, but if it’s because you’re relying on somebody else to make you feel that way, somebody that you know is practically the opposite of reliable, then that’s just unhealthy. I’ve got—I’ve gotta go because Freddie’s crying up a storm,” Niall could hear the young child crying in the background, the sound muffled and distant. He suddenly had a yearning to see Louis, realizing that it’d been at least a couple of months before he saw either him or his son in person. “Louis, I don’t really know what to say—” 

“You don’t have to say anything, Niall. Take care of yourself and… just know that I’ll always have your best interests in mind, alright?” Louis said softly, words said with genuine concern. Niall was unable to do much more than mumble a quiet _I know_ in response, feeling as if his heart was breaking from the inside out. With that, Louis hung up the phone, and Niall was left alone with nothing but his thoughts. He glanced down at his phone as it vibrated in his hands, the incoming messages only making things that much more painful.

 **Zayn:** _fuck fuck fuckk_

 **Zayn:** _i’m so sorry nialler :(_

 **Zayn:** _i didn’t think anybody would see us at all_

 **Zayn:** _i can message my publicist and see if i can do anything about getting them taken down_

 **Zayn:** _i know that this is the shittiest way of having people find out and i’m so so sorry_

 **Zayn:** _at least its not completely obvious that we were there as more than friends_

 **Zayn:** _i donno how much that helps though :(_

 **Zayn:** _this is shitty but we’ll get through it i promise ._

 **Zayn:** _i’ll be more careful next time , yeah?? Xx_

 **Zayn:** _call me when you see this , i love you xxx_

Niall powered off his phone before setting it down on top of the table in his hotel room, an overwhelming sense of tiredness making him want to burrow beneath his covers and never come out again. The past few days had been like a complete daydream to him, the first time that he wholeheartedly felt as if his relationship with Zayn was shaping up to be everything that he’d always wanted it to be, but now it felt as if everything was crashing down, Niall unable to stop himself from wondering whether he’d simply fooled himself into believing that Zayn really cared for him. The thought stung more than he would ever care to admit, and the heartbreak that he’d felt when Zayn had left the band reemerged with a vengeance, feeling as if it was consuming his entire being. He had hoped that he would never feel this way again yet there he was, but with nobody there to support him this time around.

— *✲ﾟ*｡✧ — 

The next few days in San Francisco felt as if they went by in a blur, filled with long phone calls and text conversations as he attempted to explain himself to numerous people in his life; even to his PR agent, who questioned whether the sighting was merely a front to draw attention to his upcoming album. He deleted his Twitter app, simply unable to read any more tweets asking whether the pictures were signs of an upcoming reunion of the band. Most notably, he kept his distance from Zayn, save a single text message letting the other man know that his trip to San Francisco had been extended by a few days because of his management—a decision that, in actuality, he’d made himself.

He knew that it was deceptive to lie to Zayn, but the relentless sinking in his chest whenever he thought of the other man was enough to make Niall want to avoid him for the time being. If he was being honest with himself, Niall felt as if he had gotten so lost in the fantasy of reconnecting with Zayn that he’d forgotten why there were complications associated with the prospect of reigniting their relationship in the first place. That wasn’t to say that he regretted everything that had happened between them, because it wasn’t as if he had fallen out of love with the other man, by no stretch of imagination. But, there _were_ some important considerations that he had looked over and they were now coming back to bite him in the arse. To Niall, it felt as if he was being forced to choose between Zayn and Louis, a choice that should’ve been unbelievably simple to make, simply by considering who had been there for him the most.

But it _wasn’t_ that simple, because Niall had fallen for Zayn in a way that he’d never fallen for anybody before. The magnetic bond between the two was one that had always existed, it’d just taken the pair a while to properly realize it. And now that they finally had, Niall simply couldn’t fathom the thought of letting it all go to waste, seeing as he truly believed that he would never feel the same way about somebody again. It was as if their fate had been written in the stars, predestined from the moment that they were put together on the X-Factor, and Niall was sure that he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he just threw it all away. 

Having said that, he was still too afraid to contact Zayn, unsure of what exactly he would say to the other man; as it turned out, Niall didn’t have to make the decision for himself, the brunette’s head lifting at the sound of a loud knock on his hotel room door, drawing him out of his reverie. His eyebrows drew down into a slight frown as he tried to recollect whether he’d been expecting any visitors, but he came up short. The knocking persisted, however, so Niall stood, chancing a quick glance outside the large window at the sunny San Franciscan sky, distantly wishing that he could escape his hotel room for a few hours without having to worry about getting swarmed by paps. He made his way to the front door, pausing for a moment before opening it up, eyes widening slightly as he was met with the sight of Zayn, small suitcase in tow.

“I’m sorry,” Were the first words that left the raven-haired man’s lips, looking apologetic and slightly sheepish as he stood there, rubbing at the back of his neck. “You weren’t replying to my messages so I reached out to your manager to find out where you were staying because I missed you and, like, I don’t want us to fight.” Niall felt an overwhelming sense of tiredness overcome him at the sight of Zayn, desperate to just step forward and fall into the older man’s arms, wanting to pretend as if the last few days had never happened.

Because Niall didn’t have very much self-control at all, that was exactly what he did, closing the door behind Zayn before pulling him forward into a hug. Zayn hugged him back tenderly, keeping his arm secure around Niall’s waist, taking a moment to just breathe him in. It’d only been a few days since they’d last seen each other in Bradford, but it felt like an entirety had gone by to Niall, what with Niall having to deal with the overwhelming response to the leaked pictures all by himself. “It’s okay, Z. I’m not upset,” The brunette said before detaching himself from the hug, watching as the other man bent down to unzip his suitcase, removing a tightly packed plastic container.

“My Mum and I made cookies… well, it was mostly my Mum but I helped a bit too. I thought they might make you feel a bit better,” As the older man regained his position on his feet, his eyebrows furrowed down into a slight frown; it must’ve been the first proper look that he had gotten at Niall, judging by the unease eminent on his features. “You don’t look so good, love,” He murmured, raising a hand to rub his thumb against Niall’s cheekbone, voice laced with concern.

“Haven’t been able to get much sleep the past few days, t’be honest,” Niall murmured, absently running his fingers through his hair and biting down on his bottom lip. He couldn’t handle it, Zayn’s worried gaze as he held onto the container of cookies, his frown only deepening. Despite how much he wanted to give in and act as if everything was okay, Niall knew that it was important to take a step back, to remember why he’d been trying to keep his distance in the first place. The raven-haired man set the container down, his full lips downturned into a slight mope. “Did I do something wrong, Niall?”

“Can we sit?” The brunette asked instead of answering Zayn’s question, gesturing to the leather couch that sat in the middle of the large hotel room, the older man nodding before following Niall’s lead and sitting down atop the couch. Niall shifted slightly so that he was cross legged and Zayn did the same, their knees barely touching as the brunette’s gaze rested on the older man, eyes scanning Zayn’s features. Zayn was equally as absorbed in his own study of Niall, though he still looked concerned, Niall practically able to hear the string of unspoken questions running through his mind.

“Zayn, can I ask you a question?” Niall asked, the other man nodding hesitantly in response, as if he wasn’t sure whether it was the right thing to do. A soft sigh left Niall’s lips as he averted his gaze down to his lap, absently beginning to fiddle with a loose thread on his jumper, trying to decide how best to go about starting this difficult conversation. In the end, he decided that the only way to do it was to be open and direct, something that he should’ve been the minute that he’d spoken to Louis. “Why didn’t you go to Louis’ performance for his Mum?”

Zayn shifted uncomfortably, his own gaze dropping to his lap as well, eyebrows fanning over the contours of his cheek. His shoulders lifted into a jerky shrug, quiet for a moment, like he was taking his time to consider the question carefully. “I don’t, like, what does that have to do with anything?” Zayn faltered with his words as he spoke, seeming all-around taken aback by the question. It wasn’t Niall’s intention to catch Zayn by surprise, but there was really no way of easing into the discussion, especially when everybody had already spent far too much time beating around the bush.

“Please just answer the question, Z,” Niall pleaded, hoping that the desperation lining his words was enough to give Zayn an indication of just how important this was to him. Another few moments of silence passed by before Zayn finally gave in, shaking his head slightly before he spoke. “I’m not completely sure how to answer the question, if I’m being honest. I promise, like, if I had the chance to take back _anything_ in my life, it would’ve been my decision not to go—I think that I wouldn’t necessarily say it was a decision, per se, it’s just…” The other man paused, gaze still trained on his lap, looking as if he was fighting an internal conflict in terms of whether or not to continue speaking. Niall stayed silent, however, happy to let Zayn take his time if that meant getting a straight answer.

“I guess one part of me would say that it was nerves? That was what I told Louis, at least, when I informed him that I wouldn’t be attending. But I think the real reason for it ran far deeper than that. To put it simply, like, I was ashamed. I knew that you lot would all be there and I hadn’t seen any of you since I’d left, and, I didn’t know how I was going to be able to face all of you. After everything that’d happened, the arguments that me and Louis had seemed so petty, so insignificant, like, in relation to everything else. He’d _lost his Mum_ , for Christ’s sake, and we’d thrown away a friendship over some Twitter fights. Or, I guess, I was the one that threw away the friendship. I couldn’t imagine seeing all of you after that, face-to-face, and I _know_ that it was a cowardly thing to do, but I was so humiliated by the way that I’d treated Louis that I just couldn’t bring myself to go.” Zayn’s sentences were choppy, the older man stumbling over his words as he got them out, as if he was almost struggling to speak.

Zayn took a shuddery breath in, shaking his head again, gaze earnest as he met Niall’s. His words were quieter as he spoke this time around, voice wobbly as if he was on the verge of crumbling. “I’ve never felt like more of a shit person in my life. You know, I had actually flown out to London and everything? It was only a few hours before the performance that I realized that I couldn’t find it in myself to go. Gi was there with me that night, and, like, I’ve never felt more pathetic in front of her, because all I could do was _cry_ , for what felt like hours. I knew that I didn’t deserve her sympathy but she was there for me all the same, tried to help me understand that I had no reason to blame myself for not being able to go. I’m aware, like, that there’s no way to justify what I did and I don’t expect anyone to be able to understand why I did it, because I don’t… I still don’t know why I did it myself, if I’m being completely honest.” Tears brimmed over Niall’s eyes at Zayn’s delicately spoken words, shaking his own head as he lifted up a hand to roughly wipe them away.

“You’re right, Z, because I don’t fucking understand,” Niall’s tone was harsh, angry in a way that he never got with the older man, hurt bleeding out of him like an open wound. “I just…” His tone softened at Zayn’s hurt expression, lip tucked in between his teeth as if he was trying not to cry himself. “I just wish that you would have been there for him, Z. You could’ve been there. He needed you there, we all did.”

“I know, and I’m _sorry_. You have no idea how many times I’ve opened up my text thread with him, tried to apologize and tell him how sorry I was about not being there for him that night, but I don’t know how to do it. He hasn’t spoken to me since, and I know that I don’t deserve an ounce of his forgiveness, but it’s hard, like, knowing that I’d ruined our friendship by being such as ass. If I could go back and change what happened, then I swear that I would, but there’s nothing that I can do about it now, no matter how much I want to. Please, just, _please_ don’t let this come between what we have, Niall. I love you, and if you were to leave me over this, Christ, I don’t know what I’d do.” Zayn’s tone verged on desperate as he took Niall’s hand in his own, bringing it up to his mouth to press a kiss against the back of his palm. There were tears in his eyes now, and Niall was practically unable to meet Zayn’s eyes, the older man reduced to a quivery mess all because of him. “I’m not going to leave you, Zayn. I’m worried that you’re going to leave _me_. How do I know that you won’t just fuck off when you lose interest in me? The same way that you left the band and abandoned Louis?”

Zayn recoiled immediately, flinching away as if Niall had physically slapped him across the face. Pure disbelief lined his features, coupled with an expression of hurt that Niall had never seen before, making the brunette immediately want to take back his harsh words. “You know that I didn’t simply just “lose interest” in either of those situations, Niall. Leaving the band took a whole lot of fucking confidence that I didn’t even have in myself at the time and you _know_ that. And after all that I’ve just said to you, you can’t possibly think that my friendship with Louis broke down because I simply lost interest. I don’t understand the point that you’re trying to make when you know that neither of those situations were easy for me to go through, but you’re saying it as if they were the most trivial matters in the world.”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry. I’m not thinking straight,” Niall mumbled, running his fingers through his hair, unable to comprehend how he’d found it in himself to say something so cruel that was obviously intended to be hurtful to Zayn, someone that had always tried to understand Niall’s point of view no matter what. “I know that you would never do something like that to me, I don’t even know why I said it. Fuck, please don’t get upset,” The brunette leaned forward to wipe at Zayn’s cheek with his thumb, getting rid of a few tears that had accumulated there.

“I’m not upset with you, Niall. I just don’t understand where all of this is coming from? Why would you ever think that I’d lose interest in you and leave you, just like that? Especially when we’ve spent the last few months together, building up a relationship that initially seemed hopeless? _I love you_ , leaving you is the last thought that would cross my mind right now.”

“God, I know, and I love you too. Can I—Can we get into bed, maybe? Please?” Though Zayn looked rather doubtful, he nodded, and the pair stood up, making their way to the undone bed. Zayn laid down first, and Niall shifted so that he was practically curled in on the other man, his head resting on Zayn’s chest. From this position, Zayn could run his fingers through Niall’s hair, and for the first time that morning, Niall felt at ease, his breathing slowly evening out and his quickened pulse returning to normal. “Louis called me.” Niall admitted after a moment of silence, voice quiet as he absentmindedly fiddled with his own fingers. “He saw the pictures and he was really pissed off about them. I think that he put a lot of things in my mind that I didn’t want to hear and I took it all out on you. I’m sorry.”

“I can understand, like, why he was upset. But he doesn’t know what we’ve been working towards for the last few months, so he’s not in a position to make any sort of comments about our relationship. I care about you a lot, Niall, and I would never intentionally put you in a situation where you would get hurt, not after everything that we’ve been through. Okay?”

“Okay, Z. I still can’t honestly say that I understand what happened between you and Louis, but I know that there are some things in the past that can’t be changed and just have to be accepted, that’s life. I see now that it’s something that you’ve moved on from, which is all that you can do, really. Thank you for taking the time to explain yourself to me even though you didn’t have to. I care a lot about you too, and the last thing that I want to do is to put our relationship at any sort of risk. I’m sorry for saying what I said earlier, I was just upset and I need you to know that I didn’t mean any of it.” With that, he shifted slightly so that he could lean up and connect their lips together into a soft kiss, eyes falling shut. Zayn kissed him back just as gently, humming approvingly into the kiss. They stayed like that for a few moments before Niall regained his previous position, resting on top of Zayn’s chest once again.

Niall felt infinitely better knowing that they’d talked things out, a clear indication that their relationship was far stronger than it once was; they’d been completely open with each other, a stark contrast to when they would dance around their issues and never get into conversation of much substance. Now, even if Niall didn’t fully understand the reasoning beneath Zayn’s actions, he was endlessly thankful that the other man was willing to open up to him.

They laid there in an easy silence, the last few restless nights finally beginning to catch up to Niall as his eyes grew heavier. Just as he was about to drift out of consciousness, however, Zayn spoke quietly, so soft that Niall would’ve surely missed the words had he actually fallen asleep. “I’m not going to lie, though, I really did think that Louis would’ve been a bit more understanding about the whole thing.”

Niall’s eyebrows knitted down into a slight frown as he opened his eyes again, gaze vaguely focusing on the ceiling above them. “And why is that?” He questioned curiously, subconsciously finding his breath in sync with the movements of Zayn’s chest beneath him, in steady inhales and exhales. “He knew, like, how I felt about you while we were in the band.”

Niall felt as if his whole world had been turned upside down, a rock settling in his stomach and making him feel sick with unease. “What?” He questioned, voice shaky as he sat up in bed to meet Zayn’s eyes, though the older man’s gaze was trained downwards, pointedly avoiding Niall’s gaze. “Yeah, like, he knew that I had feelings for you. It was one of the reasons that he was so upset with me on the night that I’d left, because I completely avoided the topic. He’d known for a while, actually. Did it… did it never come up?”

Niall shook his head, seemingly forgetting how to form actual words. He could barely comprehend what Zayn had just told him, unable to understand how it was even remotely possible for Louis to keep that piece of information to himself for more than four years now. “I guess it makes sense, like…” Though Zayn was still talking, Niall couldn’t hear him over the sudden rush of blood in his ears, everything that he thought he knew suddenly flipped around and rearranged backwards. When Niall laid down on Zayn’s chest again, sleep was no longer a priority on his mind, thoughts instead fixated on the fact that things in his life may not have been as black and white as he’d previously thought that they were. 

— *✲ﾟ*｡✧ — 

Despite the fact that Niall was desperate to speak to Louis again after him and Zayn woke up from their nap, he knew that he couldn’t do it while Zayn was still around. Luckily, things worked out quite well for him, with Zayn receiving a call from his manager shortly after they’d gotten up. As it turned out, despite the fact that the other man was currently on a creative hiatus, his agent was in the throes of organizing a collaboration with an upcoming underground artist that Zayn had apparently always been interested in; who, just so happened to reside in San Francisco. Niall assured the other man that he would be happy for him to go to the studio, his heart stuttering in his chest at the million watt smile that he got in response. After Zayn left, Niall was once again left alone to his own devices, knowing instantly what he had to do.

He grabbed his phone from the small desk in the hotel room, unlocking it and opening his contact list up. To Zayn, it might not have seemed like the biggest deal in the world that Louis hadn’t said anything, but Niall knew that it was much more than that. Zayn wasn’t there for the countless nights that Niall spent bawling his eyes out to Louis after his departure, wondering out loud why they hadn’t been good enough for Zayn to stay. He wasn’t there to experience the heartbreak, the pure devastation that Niall went through; only Louis was. And again, while they’d never explicitly discussed Niall’s feelings for Zayn, the brunette was certain that Louis would have to have at least an _inkling_ of an idea that his feelings weren’t entirely platonic, considering how close they became after Zayn left. And even if he wasn’t aware that Niall liked Zayn as more than a friend, that was still no excuse for not telling Niall that his bandmate of four years had feelings for him, considering just how crucial that information could be to the brunette.

With that thought, Niall took a deep breath in before clicking on Louis’ name and bringing the phone to his ear, anger beginning to settle beneath his skin. After a few rings, Louis picked up the phone, greeting Niall with a slightly grainy, “ _Hello?”_. “Did you know?” Niall hadn’t planned out exactly what he was going to say beforehand, running on pure adrenaline alone, so he realized belatedly that Louis was going to require some amount of clarification before he understood what Niall was referring to, evidenced by the confused _What?_ that he received in response.

“Did you know that Zayn had feelings for me?” Niall questioned slowly, the words said through his teeth, the mere inquiry enough to cause another wave of irritation to run over the brunette. He was met with silence on the other end of the line, the long stretch of quiet that ensued giving Niall the answer that he so desperately hadn’t wanted to hear. It felt like an eternity had passed before the other man spoke again, voice careful. “Niall, I—”

However, Niall wasn’t in the mood to hear Louis out for even a single moment, astonished by the other man’s audacity of getting upset with Niall just a few days ago when he himself had been hiding something; something that, in Niall’s opinion, was of far greater consequence than him and Zayn concealing their relationship for a few months. “You fucking what, Louis? You gave me so much bullshit for not telling you about Zayn, when did you think was the right time for _you_ to tell me about him? I was bawling my fucking eyes out in front of you for a solid week, how did it not occur to you that I’d possibly want to know about something like that?”

“You were already so hurt about him leaving, Niall. I didn’t just want to spring something else on you, especially when I knew that you’d be hurt by that, too.” It was probably the worst possible answer that Louis could come up with, Niall certain that the words sounded flimsy even to his own ears. “If tha’ was the case, then you could’ve just told me afterwards, couldn’t you? You had four years to tell me—four years of you _knowing_ that I was devastated by what’d happened with Zayn. And this was before you two even fought with each other, so don’t give me that bullshite.”

Louis didn’t respond, so Niall continued, tone softening slightly, because it was still Louis that he was speaking to, someone that’d been there for him, thick and through, when practically nobody else was. “I understand that it may not have been obvious that I had feelings for him, because I honestly wasn’t completely sure that I felt that way either, but a little part of me thinks that maybe you had some sort of an idea that I did. And even if you didn’t, I still think that you should’ve told me. I mean, it’s kind of a big thing to keep to yourself, don’t you think?”

_Unbeknownst to Niall, Louis actually did have a fair idea of his feelings for the other man. It was the night after Zayn had left the band, and Niall and Louis were holed up in Louis’ expensive hotel room, the older man having bought endless amounts of alcohol so that they could get shitfaced. He knew that Niall needed it; surprisingly enough, it was as if Niall had been the most affected by Zayn’s departure, something that Louis honestly hadn’t been expecting. They were stretched out on Louis’ bed, and although he hadn’t had much to drink himself, Niall was completely pissed, staring up at the ceiling with a thoughtful expression plastered across his features._

_“I miss ‘im, Lou,” Niall had slurred, bottle of liquor held tightly in his arms, lips downturned into a slight frown. Louis simply hummed in agreement, unsure of what he could say to make the blonde feel better, when he was feeling quite shit himself. All that he wanted to do was sleep, still hopeful that this was all a bad nightmare and Zayn would be by his side when he woke up. Their previously thought to be unbreakable bond had shattered, right before his eyes, and he felt lost, uncertain of how to deal with everything when his partner of crime was missing._

_“I think I love him.” Niall had breathed, the words so soft that Louis wasn’t sure if he was meant to hear them, eyebrows knitting down into a frown as he tilted his head slightly to look over at the blonde. Niall was still staring up at the ceiling, same wistful expression on his face, gaze seemingly unfocused as he blinked a few times to refocus his eyes. Louis had a sudden flashback to a conversation that he’d had with Zayn, after they’d smoked so much weed that he was fighting to keep his eyes open, thoughts clouded over with pure ecstasy. Zayn had said something very similar to him that night about Niall, and the memory was coming back in flashes, though Louis had never expected Niall to feel the same way. “What did you just say?”_

_“Nothing. I’m really fucking wasted,” Niall mumbled as he clutched the bottle tighter to his body, his eyes falling shut. Louis hadn’t been able to do much more than stare at the younger man, eyes wide, wondering whether he truly meant what he’d said or whether it was the alcohol talking. Either way, he didn’t bring it up the next morning, despite the thought remaining ever-present in Louis’ head; and yet, he still couldn’t find it in himself to mention it to Niall. Not even when he listened to Niall’s new single for the first time and knew, without a doubt, that it was about Zayn._

“Niall,” Louis whispered, the single word practically dripping with guilt. “I knew how you felt about Zayn. You told me.” Niall felt his stomach tighten, a heavy feeling rushing to his throat. He had to swallow to keep it down, yet he still felt sick, unable to comprehend Louis’ quietly spoken words. “What the fuck do you mean I told you, Louis?” Niall asked slowly, voice laced with venom.

“You don’t remember it because you were shitfaced. It was the day after he’d left, up in my hotel room. You said… you said that you loved him.” Louis words wavered as he spoke, still sounding incredibly guilty. And for good reason, judging by the way that Niall felt at that moment, a mixture of complete betrayal and pure, seething anger. “You mean to tell me,” Niall began quietly, each slowly-spoken word punctuated with an ounce of rage. “That you’ve known this whole time? When I told you how much I missed Zayn, when I would cry in front of you for hours on end, shit, even when I told you that I’d do anything to have him back? You _knew_ , and you didn’t tell me how he felt? You’ve wasted four fucking years of my life, Louis. I’ve spent four years feeling like I’m crazy because I spent all of my time writing songs about someone that I hadn’t even been in a relationship with. You already knew how he felt about me and you _knew_ that I felt the same way, and you never felt like it was important to say something about it? The one excuse that I was willing to accept from you was that you simply didn’t know that I felt the same way, but you fucking did.” Niall’s words poured out of him, the brunette unable to stop himself even if he wanted to.

He felt like a complete knob, the realization that he’d spent four years of his life longing for something that he could’ve had from the very beginning one that he simply didn’t want to accept. There’d always been complications whilst they were in the band that stopped them from pursuing a relationship, but once Zayn had left, none of those restrictions would’ve existed anymore. They could’ve been together, especially when it was obvious that they still had feelings for each other. Niall could’ve known what it was like to properly have Zayn all to himself four years ago, and yet there he was, with the year 2019 slowly drawing to a close, still struggling to overcome issues that would have never existed had they kept in contact with each other in the first place; something that Niall never thought to do because he’d rendered it pointless. “I didn’t… Niall, I didn’t want you to leave us too, alright? I knew that if I told you about how Zayn felt so shortly after he’d left that you would follow him. And I couldn’t bear the thought of losing someone else close to me, not when I was still so hurt by Zayn’s decision to leave.”

“Maybe I would’ve fucking left, Louis. But that was _my_ choice to make. _Mine_. Not _yours_. You manipulated me, that’s all there is to it. Here I was, fooled into believing that you were the best person that you could possibly be for me during that time, when in reality, you purposely kept information that you _knew_ I needed away from me. And for the record, I wouldn’t have left you or the band, because I would never be able to find it in myself to betray you when you needed me most. Little did I know that you’d already made that decision for yourself.” A harsh chuckle left his lips, suddenly feeling a sense of exhaustion overwhelm him, tired of the feeling of anger that felt as if it was engulfing his entire being. “I’m sorry, Niall. I’m so sorry. I know that what I did was wrong, but I was so afraid of losing you that I felt like I had no choice.”

“Well, you should’ve thought about what would’ve happened if I ever did find out, Louis, because I’m pretty upset right now.” Niall said quietly, shaking his head slightly as he averted his gaze to outside of the hotel room window, thoughts flitting back to the last time that he’d been in San Francisco with the boys during their tour. The memory stung, felt like a lifetime away, and Niall almost wished that he could go back, wondering how things would have played out if they’d made different choices for themselves back. “I’m sorry,” Louis repeated quietly, though the fight in his voice had completely dissipated, knowing fully that he was in the wrong.

“I need to go.” Niall said shortly, no longer possessing the energy required to continue the conversation, simply wanting to get off the phone call as soon as possible. He needed some time to himself, away from Louis and away even from Zayn, just so that he could get some space to think. “Niall, please don’t—”

“Bye, Louis.” The brunette said before the other man had an opportunity to continue speaking, disconnecting the phone call. With that, he set his phone down, thoughts running a mile a minute. He couldn’t come to terms with the fact that he’d wasted four years of his life pining for somebody that had wanted him back since the very beginning. He could’ve been there for Zayn, could’ve been there for the release of his debut album, to watch the older man receive his first award for his solo music, to witness the birth of his niece. He couldn’t bear to even think about it, tears stinging behind his eyes as he shook his head, wondering if he could ever hope to get past the revelation and salvage his friendship with Louis.

 **Louis:** _I’m sorry, Niall. Please don’t let this come in the way of our friendship_

 **Louis:** _You know all I meant to do was protect you, I just went about it the wrong way_

Niall picked up his phone as it vibrated, eyes scanning over the messages. At that moment, it didn’t seem very likely.

— *✲ﾟ*｡✧ — 

Things quieted down once the pair flew back out to Los Angeles. Though Zayn offered to get them separate plane tickets so that they could avoid a repeat of what had happened in Bradford, Niall declined, no longer caring what people had to say; all _that_ had done was make him unfairly lash out at Zayn. Something that was even more unfair considering the fact that Zayn obviously didn’t give a fuck about what anybody thought, evidenced by him inviting Niall to Bradford to meet his entirely family—an invitation that Niall had almost ruined by being too cowardly, but things had seemingly worked out for the better in the long run.

They didn’t get swarmed by any paparazzi, because Zayn had apparently mastered the art of avoiding any and all public sightings, but Niall didn’t think that he would’ve minded even if they had been. It’d taken him a while to realize, but he didn’t owe anybody an explanation for his decisions and what he chose to do with his life. Every aspect of their lives, down to a tee, had been controlled for so long that it was time that he started making some choices for himself. That was all that Zayn had wanted in the band, but unlike Niall, he’d been brave enough to do it on his own.

While a large part of him still blamed Louis for preventing their relationship from reaching its true potential a long time ago, Niall was aware that he wasn’t entirely faultless either. He hadn’t made a single attempt to try to understand where the older man was coming from when he announced that he wanted to leave, simply putting it down to selfishness, when in reality, it was much more than that. If he’d actually made an attempt to listen to Zayn, to fully hear him out, then there was a high probability that things could have turned out to be different for them back then as well. Niall was infinitely glad that Zayn had made the decision to reach out to him, but it still stung, knowing that they’d missed out on four years of a potential bond.

Niall didn’t tell Zayn that Louis purposely withheld the information from him, uncertain as to how the older man would react and not wanting to drive a further wedge between their relationship. He was just _tired_ of it, thinking that he knew something when he really didn’t. In some ways, he understood the irony of the situation, having kept a crucial part of his life secret for so long, when he didn’t even fully understand the logistics beneath his blossoming relationship with Zayn.

Currently, Niall was sitting in a meeting, intended for discussing his upcoming tour dates and venues. He couldn’t be more excited that he was going on tour, seeing as it was his favourite part of the job by far, but it was a bittersweet feeling, knowing that he would have to be away from Zayn for so long, something that he obviously never had to worry about whilst they were in the band. As if on command, Niall’s phone vibrated in his pocket, the brunette reaching over to take it out, eyes scanning over his unread notifications.

 **Zayn:** _don’t b home today before six :P_

 **Zayn:** _i have a surprisee :B_

A slight smile found Niall’s lips at Zayn’s endearing use of emoticons, shaking his head before pocketing his phone once again. He couldn’t get rid of the fuzzy feeling that warmed his chest at the fact that Zayn’d referred to his house as _home_ —it was true, though. Niall felt more at home in Zayn’s house than his own flat back in London, a true testament to the soothing effect that the older man possessed, capable of making him feel like he belonged in a way that nobody else did. Niall hoped that he was able to do the same for Zayn, as he had experienced first-hand just how bad the older man’s anxiety could get, and he never wanted to contribute to that feeling in any way, shape or form. A soft sigh left Niall’s lips as his thoughts wandered, absently wondering what “surprise” Zayn had been referring to in his text message.

The thought was still on his mind as he arrived to Zayn’s house later on that evening, distractedly removing his phone from his pocket to check what time it was, the white letters on the screen reading _6:27 P.M._ The brunette placed his phone back in his trousers before opening up the front door, closing it behind him once he’d entered. “Niall, don’t come into the kitchen!” Zayn shouted, presumably from inside of the kitchen, and Niall huffed out a laugh, shaking his head slightly as he toed off his shoes. “Am I allowed to ask why?” He yelled back, voice tinged with amusement, unable to help the smile that found his lips as Zayn responded with a resounding _No!_

“Just go upstairs and change into something nice. I’m sure you have a suit packed somewhere.” Zayn said loudly, the brunette’s eyes furrowing down into a puzzled frown at the odd request. Though Niall was still confused, he chose not to question the other man, simply shrugging to himself before turning and making his way up the winding staircase in Zayn’s house. He still had no idea what the other man had planned, but he was sure that he had a suit squirreled away somewhere, beginning to rummage through the clothes that he’d haphazardly occupied one of Zayn’s empty closets with, a smile finding his lips as he found what he was looking for. Niall ran his fingers over the silky fabric of the jacket, the tan suit accented with a plaid red, white and black undershirt. He removed the suit from the closet, absently humming beneath his breath as he rid himself of the set of clothes that he was wearing and put the suit on instead.

With that, he made his way to the full-length mirror in Zayn’s room, smoothing the collar over and running a hand through his hair. Niall felt slightly ridiculous about the butterflies fluttering around his stomach, but to be fair to himself, he’d never really dressed up for the older man before and this felt like the closest that he’d ever gotten to that. He made his way to the bathroom to steal some of Zayn’s lavender-scented hair gel, combing it through his hair and spritzing on some of the expensive cologne that he kept in Zayn’s bathroom. He took one more look at himself in the bathroom, taking a deep breath before making his way downstairs, unsure of what to expect upon his arrival.

Zayn was waiting for him downstairs, clad in a matte black suit, so stunning that it practically took Niall’s breath away. He was typing something out on his phone but he stopped as he heard the sound of Niall coming down the stairs, gaze lifting to rest on Niall instead. “Wow, you look gorgeous, love,” He said, tone reverent as his eyes travelled down Niall’s body, the brunette flushing red almost immediately in response. Zayn was always beautiful but he looked almost otherworldly at that moment, bambi-eyed gaze, full lips, long eyelashes, all accented against his unflawed honey-hued skin, set against the backdrop of the lavish suit that he’d chosen to wear. “You look stunning too, Z,” Niall murmured, the older man placing a hand on his forearm to pull him forward for a soft kiss.

“What’s this all for, then?” Niall asked once Zayn had pulled away, nerves beginning to prickle beneath his skin once again. The entire corridor leading to the dining room was dimly lit, a few scented candles placed around the room. “Well, we never properly celebrated your birthday because we were so caught up in everything, and, like, I know it’s a little bit difficult for us to go out on a proper date so I thought that I could organize something at home for you.” Zayn’s shoulders lifted into a slight shrug as he shyly glanced at the ground, scuffing it lightly with his foot. “I know it’s not much, like, just thought it’d be something nice to do.”

Niall’s heart swelled in his chest, a sudden rush of affection for Zayn coursing throughout him. ”It’s perfect, petal,” He replied fondly, unable to stop himself from pulling Zayn in for another kiss, hoping that he could convey the true extent of his appreciation through the single embrace. Zayn kissed him back like a promise, and Niall was brought back to a few months ago on his birthday, when they’d been sharing a kiss in this exact same position, though the circumstances were wildly different now. The thought of how far along they’d come was enough to make Niall emotional, embarrassingly enough, and he found his eyes brimming over with tears after Zayn pulled apart, reaching a hand up to wipe them away with the back of his sleeve.

Zayn cooed gently, reaching his own hand up to gingerly wipe at Niall’s eye with the pad of his thumb. “I haven’t even served you dinner yet and you’re already crying,” He teased, Niall huffing out a watery chuckle in response. “Sorry, sorry. I’m just really happy,” The brunette said honestly, heart fluttering in his chest at Zayn’s responding smile, his tongue pressed against his teeth. “I am too, Niall. Come on, then, let’s eat,” With that, Zayn intertwined their fingers together, leading the pair to the dining room. Niall’s gaze flickered around the dining room, which was also dimly lit like the corridor, candles placed along the large table. It was obvious to Niall that Zayn had spent a good amount of time setting this all up, and it made Niall all the more grateful that he’d done all of this, just for him.

“Sit,” Zayn murmured, pulling out a chair for Niall, and the brunette did as told, taking a seat. From where Niall was sitting, it really did appear to him as if they were in a lavish restaurant of some sort, with the way that Zayn had done up the decorations. The older man made his way into the kitchen, returning after a few moments with two matching plates in hand. He set one down in front of Niall, heaping to the brim with what looked like steak, mashed potatoes and asparagus, undoubtedly one of his Mum’s recipes, if Niall had to guess. He then poured a bit of champagne into two glasses, setting one in front of Niall before sitting down.

“This looks amazing, Z,” Niall commented, grinning over at the other man, who had a bashful smile playing on his lips. “Thank you. I’m sure it’ll be nowhere near as good as my Mum’s, but I tried,” A slight smirk found the brunette’s lips at the fact that he’d guessed correctly, watching as the other man lifted his champagne glass. “To new beginnings,” Zayn murmured, the brunette clinking the tips of their glasses together and nodding his head in response. He brought the glass to his lips before taking a sip, the expensive champagne warming his throat and chest as he swallowed.

With that, the pair began to eat, Niall incredibly impressed by the quality of the food, Zayn’s mum’s talents surely having been passed onto the older man. A comfortable silence settled over the two for a few moments as they ate, Niall looking up to meet Zayn’s gaze and finding himself falling that much deeper in love, mesmerized by the way that Zayn’s eyes twinkled beneath the candle-light. He was so unbelievably flawless that it made Niall’s heart ache in his chest, unsure of what he’d done to deserve the beautiful man sat in front of him.

“Can I ask you something?” Niall questioned, Zayn humming a soft response before gently patting his mouth with a wine-red handkerchief. “When did you know, um, that you had feelings for me?” The question was one that had frequently crossed his mind before but he’d never thought to ask, deciding that now was as good of a time as any. Zayn paused, eyebrows furrowing down slightly, as if he was taking his time to carefully consider the question before answering.

“I dunno, like, if it’s cheesy of me to say from the very beginning? My Mum’s always told me that I fall in love too easily, but I’d been a bit in awe of you from the first moment that I saw you, like, the way that you were able to command a crowd, you always had everyone’s eyes on you. Not to mention your piss blonde hair, yeah?” Niall chuckled at Zayn’s playful tone, though he was sure that his face was tinted rouge at the initial quiet confession, averting his gaze down to his plate so that he could take a bite of his steak, since he didn’t have to speak while he was chewing. “And then when we were put together and I actually got to talking to you, I remember that I was in even more awe, if that was possible. Like, it could’ve been really easy for people to write you off as the sort-of stereotypical frat boy type, but I knew that you were much more than that. You always knew, like, what I needed, whether it was to talk to somebody or just some time to myself. Obviously I loved all of the other boys as well, but you _understood_ me better than anybody else did, and I was really grateful for that.”

Niall had never heard somebody speak so genuinely about him in that way before, and it meant more to Niall than he could ever hope to convey in words, his eyes scanning Zayn’s features reverently. “I’m glad that you thought I understood you, because, if I’m being honest, I never felt the same way,” The brunette admitted, his shoulders lifting into a slight shrug as Zayn tilted his head confusedly. “Zayn, you were—sorry, you _are_ unlike anybody that I’ve ever met before. You say that you were in awe of me but I remember being the one that was completely awestruck by everything that you did. You really did wear your heart on your sleeve the entire time that we were in the band, and I remember wanting to be like that, so genuine and authentic all the time. And it’s obvious to me, even now, that you haven’t changed, not one bit. You’re still the same person that I met during the X-Factor, and I don’ know how you do it, when it’s so easy to get caught up in all of the fame. You’ve always stayed true to yourself, in a way that I admittedly sometimes had trouble doing myself, and I’ve always thought that was admirable.”

Zayn’s gaze was soft as it rested on Niall, gentle smile playing on his lips. He was looking at Niall as if the brunette was made up of galaxies, and it made Niall feel complete, connected to somebody in a way that he’d never experienced before. Niall had had his fair share of relationships, ranging from one-night stands to being in love, but no one had ever made him feel as whole as Zayn did—something that the older man could achieve simply by the way that he looked at Niall, gaze filled with pure adoration. “Thank you, like, it means a lot that you think so highly of me, Niall. I’ve spent a lot of time working on myself over the last few years, and I’d like to think that some amount of that reflects in the way that I act now.”

“It does, Z. You’ve always been far too hard on yourself regarding things like that. You’ve matured far more than any of us have in the past few years, if you want my two cents. I know that in some ways, that’s wrong, because you were forced to grow up whereas the rest of us had time to learn. And I’m sorry that we weren’t there for you, because we should’ve been. I can’t imagine having to deal with the pressure of leaving the band with zero external support, and I’m sorry that you had to deal with that. I wish we had all been there for you, I really do.”

“That’s okay. I won’t say that I was completely blameless in the whole situation, like, I could’ve gone about it in a better way,” Zayn admitted, reaching his hand over so that he could place it on top of Niall’s, squeezing his hand gently. “And I wasn’t completely alone, afterwards, like, I had Gi. And I really loved her too,” The volume of the older man’s words dropped to a whisper as his gaze flickered down, eyelashes sweeping over his eyelids. “But I guess I knew, right from the start, that things weren’t going to work out between us. It was just that she’d grown up in a completely different environment, and like, my mind was _fucked_ after the band, I’m not going to lie. I had such a negative perception on life in general, and she tried her best to help me get away from that outlook, but it’s hard, yeah? Especially when she hadn’t experienced even a fraction of what we did. It’s one of the many reasons that I feel so close to you, because you understand exactly what I’ve been through and why I struggle with a lot of the things that I do. All I’ve ever really wanted was for someone to understand me, and I didn’t…” Zayn’s voice wobbled with his words, shaking his head slightly. “I didn’t think I would ever find that. When I messaged you, like, it was as I said, I wasn’t necessarily anticipating or expecting a relationship to come out of it, but I’m so unbelievably glad that it did,”

Niall could feel himself getting emotional again, so abundantly clear to him that Zayn was speaking straight from the heart, telling him things that he’d probably never voiced out loud before. It meant the world to Niall that Zayn felt like he could trust him with that side of himself; the one that he usually kept concealed from others. “I understand what it’s like, struggling to develop a real connection with somebody when all of the experiences that you’ve gone through are so vastly different,” The brunette said in agreement, having gone through the same experience with several different people himself. He watched as Zayn put a spoonful of mashed potatoes in his mouth, expression thoughtful as his gaze rested on Niall.

“And I just want to clarify, like,” Zayn started, setting his spoon down, eyebrows furrowed down slightly. “I’ve said it before, but the fact that I had feelings for you didn’t mean that I didn’t love Pez as well, um, I dunno how to describe it, but I never felt that those two things were mutually exclusive to each other, in that sense. In all honesty though, I guess I knew that our relationship was doomed from the start, like, I should’ve known better than to get engaged so young,” He shook his head, Niall’s thoughts flitting back to the countless arguments that he’d witnessed between the pair, remembering when he would think that the two weren’t suited for each other at all, especially towards the end, though it obviously wasn’t his place to say. “It’s okay, Z, I understand. At the very least, you got out of it knowing that you both gave it a try.”

“Yeah, that’s fair enough,” The raven-haired man said, humming in assent before raising his glass of champagne to his lips to take a small sip. “Well, I’ve explained to you, like, how my feelings developed, but you’ve never really gone into that about me,” Zayn pointed out, resting his head in the palm of his hand as he watched Niall finish off a piece of asparagus, a slight smile finding the brunette’s lips at Zayn’s curious gaze. “Right, if I’m being completely honest, I don’t think that I knew fully until after you’d left. I mean, I guess a little part of me always had some sort of an idea and was maybe too afraid to admit it?”

“Afraid, like, in what sense? About your sexuality?” Zayn questioned, tone inquisitive, Niall shaking his head in response. “No, no, it wasn’t that. I’ve always been aware of that part of myself, I never really struggled with coming to terms with it. You know how I feel about my privacy though, it’s the only reason that I kept it to myself. I think it was more of the fact that it was you? I’d fooled myself into believing that the way that I saw you was just as a friend, like how I felt for all of the other boys, even though, deep down, I knew that that wasn’t true. And when you added that to the fact that we were in the band, I’d sort of assumed that spending so much time with you was just messing around with my head and making me believe things that weren’t necessarily real.”

“I can see how that might’ve been the case. I know we’ve never properly spoken about it but, like, what about Vegas? Did you… how did you feel about what happened then?” Zayn asked the questions slowly, voice hushed and almost hesitant, as if he wasn’t sure whether he was allowed to ask. Niall bit down on his lower lip, caught slightly off guard and uncertain as to how exactly to answer the question. They hadn’t spoken about it since that night, and to this day, the memory in general was still a bit blurry around the edges; what was crystal clear to Niall was the way that Zayn had reacted afterwards, wide-eyed gaze and raised eyebrows, the expression on his features clearly conveying that they’d made a mistake.

“I don’t really know how to answer that question, if I’m being honest,” Niall confessed, absentmindedly running his fingers through his hair as his shoulders lifted in a slight shrug. “Can I ask how you felt about it?” He questioned, still chewing on his lower lip as his gaze lifted to meet Zayn’s, the older man’s lips downturned slightly. “Honestly? I took it as confirmation that you didn’t feel the same way about me.” Niall’s eyebrows furrowed down into a slight frown, tilting his head in confusion. “How so?”

Zayn shrugged his shoulders, a smile ghosting at his lips. “I said that I was drunk and you knew that I wasn’t.” He said simply, a plain fact that Niall couldn’t deny even if he wanted to, because he was _aware_ of that, yet he’d still let Zayn go back to his hotel room that night. “I know. I was so shocked that I didn’t know what else to do, t’be honest. I want to say that it confirmed all of the suspicious that I had about you, but truthfully, it didn’t, because I don’t… I know this sounds ridiculous, but I still don’t know if I was the one that leant in.”

“Fuck, I don’t think I’ve ever properly thought about that, but I dunno either,” Zayn agreed, gaze focused as if he was trying to properly recollect that fuzzy night. “What, um, what do you think would’ve happened had we done something about it?” Niall questioned softly, absentmindedly fiddling with a piece of steak that he had on his plate with his fork, eyes flitting down for a moment.

“I mean, Pez and I were still engaged. I did tell her about what happened but she sort of took the whole thing as a joke, like, it didn’t really seem to bother her because she’d assumed that we were wasted. All it did was strengthen my feelings for you, despite the fact that I didn’t necessarily think that you felt the same way. I dunno, I guess my crush for you by then had sort of become something else. It sounds absurd when you say it out loud, because we’d never properly discussed it, but I’d really fallen for you, like, hard.”

“It was the same for me after you’d left. It’s like that saying, you don’t really know what you have ‘till it’s gone? I know that’s really cliché, but what I mean is that I didn’t fully realize the extent of my feelings until just after you’d left. I wrote Flicker, um, a few days after, and I remember being in complete awe that I’d managed to write that about you, someone who I’d never even been in a romantic relationship with, you know? And then when it got down to writing a lot of the other songs on my album and you were the main inspiration for most of them, it was then that I’d realized properly, that my feelings had never been entirely platonic.”

A soft smile was playing on Zayn’s lips, the corners of his eyes crinkled together slightly, gaze warm. “So your album, was, like, partly inspired by me?” The brunette nodded in response, realizing just how good it felt to get that off his chest, bringing his champagne glass to his lips to take a small sip. He couldn’t estimate the amount of time that he’d hovered over Zayn’s number in his phone, completely split on whether or not to ask if he’d given it a listen or not. He eventually decided against it, but it was a decision that he still partly regretted. “I did buy it, by the way. The day that it came out. And I loved it, like, it was exactly the kind of music that I’d always imagined you making.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that you listened to it?” Niall asked gently, averting his gaze down to his mostly-finished plate rather than looking at Zayn, lips downturned into a slight frown. He knew that it was hypocritical for him to ask, seeing as he hadn’t reached out to Zayn after either of the older man’s album releases, but at least the brunette had some sort of restriction that prevented him from doing so, in the form of not wanting to jeopardize his relationship with Louis. It was only now that Niall realized the double standard that Louis seemed to have with regards to knowing that Liam still talked to Zayn but being against Niall doing so was all down to the fact that he knew the pair had feelings for each other.

“I dunno, I didn’t know how to? I tried, several times, but I felt like I was making assumptions in terms of the fact that I felt that some of the songs had been written for me? I didn’t want to, like, get everything completely wrong, so I just kept it to myself. But I want you to know that it meant a lot to me, felt like the only concrete evidence of our relationship at the time, and I treasured all of them. I guess it was one of the reasons that I kept a lot of the songs that I had written whilst I was in the band to myself, because it was glaringly obvious that a lot of them were, y’know, about you.”

“You’ve written songs about me?” Niall asked quietly, breath catching in his throat at Zayn’s responding nod. “There are a few of them scattered across both albums, but I kept most of them to myself. I did record them, though, like, if you ever want to give them a listen?” Niall nodded, perhaps too eagerly, judging by the amused chuckle that left Zayn’s lips. “Alright, can do.” He said, genuine smile meeting his lips as he set his utensils down, finished with his meal. Niall was finished as well, so the raven-haired man stood, motioning for Niall to continue sitting as he took their plates to the kitchen.

He returned with two large bowls of mint chocolate-chip ice cream, a throwback to the matching bowls that they’d shared during their first night together. Niall grinned at the sight, equally as amused by the adorable expression on the other man’s face as he set a bowl down in front of Niall. “Was running out, like, had to order some more or else we’d be living in chaos,” The older man joked, Niall barking out a laugh in response, shaking his head in endearment.

After the pair had finished their dessert, they made their way upstairs, kissing until all of the remnants of the ice cream in the other man’s mouth had dissipated and Niall was left with the pure taste of Zayn instead, something that he’d grown addicted to. After Zayn did good on his murmured promise of making Niall _come harder than he ever had before_ , the two got into Zayn’s shower, using up far too much of his hot water supply before finding themselves back in bed, the lights switched off.

Zayn absently combed his fingers through the brunette’s hair, chewing down on his lower lip as his eyes fluttered down, as if he was contemplating whether or not to say something. “It’s Louis’ birthday tomorrow,” He eventually murmured, Niall’s eyebrows creasing into a slight frown at the mere mention of the other man’s name. “Are you doing anything?”

“We’re not really talking at the moment,” Niall replied quietly, shifting his head further into the soft pillow that he was resting on, tone slightly petulant. Zayn’s frown deepened, displeasure practically painted across his features. “What? Why?” Zayn questioned, voice laced with disapproval, clearly dissatisfied by the news. Niall didn’t want to get into this discussion now, not really in the mood to explain himself further, but he relented, shoulders lifting into a slight shrug. “I don’t know, we just had a conversation about everything that’d happened and I’m finding it hard to look past what he did.”

“What, because he didn’t tell you that I had feelings for you?” Zayn questioned, Niall humming a soft response. “Come on now, love. He probably felt as if he was in a situation where he didn’t know what else to do. You can’t blame him for that,” The older man’s tone was understanding, always so full of empathy, and Niall just didn’t understand how he did it. “I don’t see why you’re defending him, Z. Do you realize tha’ we could’ve been together four years ago if it hadn’t been for what he did?”

Zayn looked slightly doubtful, eyelashes sweeping over the swell of his cheekbones as he averted his gaze downwards. “I dunno about that, Niall. I think that we both had a lot of growing up to do before even thinking about the possibility of a relationship. I know that my engagement with Perrie was in shambles by the time that I left the band, but I still needed some time to myself, like, to be able to get over the whole situation. I think that we wouldn’t have been able to handle the pressure of being in a relationship back then, and I don’t necessarily feel that Louis was the only force preventing that. And, like, I think that we needed to get here by ourselves, which we did, without any intervention from anybody else.”

Despite the fact that he didn’t want to, Niall had to admit that the other man was right, his words carefully chosen and clearly having been thought out beforehand, considering his calm and balanced tone. Niall stayed silent, unsure of how to respond, and Zayn reached a hand out to sweep over the brunette’s cheek, grip gentle. “Hey, it’s not my place to comment on what you choose to do, but I don’t think that you should break off your friendship with Louis. The last thing that I’d want to do is break up a friendship that’s clearly meaningful to both of you, especially from what I’ve heard from you about the way that he was there for you when I’d left. I don’t want you to lose that.”

“How are you always so understanding?” Though the words themselves could have been a tease, Niall’s hushed tone said otherwise, genuinely unable to fathom how Zayn was able to forgive others so easily, especially when it was obvious that they’d wronged him in some way. Zayn shrugged, a slight smile ghosting at his lips. “It’s taken me a while, but I’ve understood that conflict doesn’t really get you anywhere. I think that it’s important to remember all of the times that you’ve been there for each other, and whether that’s more important than our relationship. I’m not trying to say that our relationship isn’t important, obviously, but, like, I just mean that he was there for you when I wasn’t, and I don’t want you to feel like you need to make a choice between both of us, when we have such different roles in your life. Like, that’s completely unfair to the both of you.”

Even after eight years, Zayn still continued to amaze him, so selfless in a way that Niall admired wholeheartedly. “I love you,” Niall murmured, heart stuttering momentarily in his chest at the beautiful smile that he got in response. “I love you too, Niall. Always will.” Zayn said it like a promise as he leaned in to gently connect their lips together, the kiss soft and tender, reminding Niall of everything that they’d fought through to get to that moment.

Just then, though, he was reminded of another uphill battle that they would have to face, and he guessed that his concern reflected on his features, judging by the way that Zayn concernedly rubbed the pad of his thumb against Niall’s lip. “What’s wrong, love?”

“You remember the meeting that I went to today? The one tha’ was for discussing the album and everything?” Niall questioned, Zayn nodding in response, looking slightly puzzled. “Well, we actually got around to talking about tour dates as well.”

“Oh,” Zayn replied shortly—it appeared to Niall that the older man was fighting to keep his tone neutral, likely anticipating what the brunette was about to tell him. He, of all people, was well aware of the strain that touring could have on the strength of a relationship, and the last thing that Niall wanted to do was jeopardize what they had built together. “How long is it going to be?” Zayn asked quietly, gaze flickering downwards.

The brunette took Zayn’s hand in his own, absently fiddling with the older man’s fingers as he subconsciously swiped a tongue over his lower lip. “Eight months,” Niall responded quietly, the stretch of time sounding far longer here with Zayn than it had in the meeting room. Zayn breathed out another quiet _oh_ in response, obviously trying to conceal how he truly felt, judging by his blank tone. “I’m really happy for you, Niall, honest.” The raven-haired man finally said after a few moments, words genuine, though Niall’s heart still felt as if it’d sunk to the bottom of his chest.

“I—you wouldn’t happen to want to come with me, would you?” Niall blurted out the words before he’d really had the chance to think about them, Zayn’s lips forming around a silent “o” in surprise, eyebrows raised. “Like, on tour?” The raven-haired man asked, asking the question in a way that made Niall feel as if he was testing him on whether or not he truly meant it. Despite the fact that he’d said it on impulse, the brunette couldn’t see a single reason as to why it would be a bad idea, so he simply nodded in response, chewing down on his lower lip. “I’m not like, doing much by myself either way, so, I would love to, if that’s okay.” Zayn whispered, still sounding quite stunned.

“Don’t say that,” Niall chided, in reference to the fact that Zayn had literally just finished recording his vocals for an upcoming collaboration whilst they were in San Francisco, quite the opposite of doing nothing. More than that, though, Niall was focused on the force of Zayn’s smile, looking so genuinely happy that it had the brunette struggling to form a proper sentence; he couldn’t be happier that Zayn was on board with the idea of accompanying him on tour, giving the older man the opportunity to revisit all of the places that were most likely tainted with memories that he’d like to forget, especially the ones that occurred towards the end of their last tour. It would give him the chance to start fresh as well, both of them knowing first-hand the positive influence that travelling could have in inspiring new music. “Okay, sounds like a plan, then.” Niall said, a soft smile finding his own lips as the raven-haired man nodded in confirmation.

“Sounds like a plan.” Zayn repeated gently, leaning forward to press a kiss against Niall’s lips, their teeth knocking together because Zayn was still smiling. Niall was convinced that he couldn’t be happier than how he felt at that very moment—the more that he thought about it, the more he realized that he wouldn’t want to change anything that’d happened in the past, because all of it had led to bringing them here; happier than Niall could ever remember being whilst they were in the band. He came to an important realization before he went to sleep that night, knowing exactly what he’d have to do the next morning.

— *✲ﾟ*｡✧ — 

“Happy birthday,” Niall said into the phone, warmth blooming in his chest at Zayn’s proud smile, the other man sitting across from him in the living room. The conversation that he’d had with Zayn last night had been enough to convince the brunette of the fact that he had to speak to Louis, the importance of their friendship far stronger than a well-concealed secret.

He no longer felt the need to hide away from Zayn whilst speaking to Louis though, finally having realized that the two of them were important parts of his life that he didn’t need to make a choice between. “Thank you, Niall,” Louis responded, the brunette clearly able to discern the smile in his voice, slight surprise accompanying the words as well, as if he hadn’t been expecting Niall’s call.

“Twenty-eight, huh? Where has the time gone?” Niall said, incredulity colouring the words, still clearly able to envision the eighteen year old that he had met on the X-Factor, the Louis that was always full of boundless energy and never failed to put a smile on his face. “Don’t even want to think about how old I’m getting, if I’m being honest,” Louis replied playfully, an amazed chuckle of his own leaving his lips.

“So what are your plans for today, then?” The brunette questioned, his thoughts flitting back to the countless parties that they’d celebrated together, completely high off the feeling of being young alone. Niall would give anything to go back to those days, just for a few moments, to reminisce on what it was like when they felt like they were on top of the world and no one could touch them. “Nothing too big planned, just going to go out with El and Freddie, have a nice, quiet lunch.” Niall hummed in response, a smile settling on his lips.

“Listen, though, it’s good that you called, because I wanted to tell you that I’m actually flying out to Los Angeles in a couple of days, because I’m in the talks of a new album at the moment.” A grin found Niall’s lips, shaking his head slightly in surprise. “What? That’s sick, mate! Haven’t seen you in forever, feels like.” Though Niall didn’t have the other man on speaker, Zayn seemed to understand what he’d just said by Niall’s reaction, a gentle smile finding his lips as well. “Yeah, I’d love to visit. Where are you staying?” 

Niall bit down on his lower lip, eyes flickering down for a moment before resting his gaze on Zayn. “With Zayn, actually,” He replied, the raven-haired man taking his lower lip in between his teeth at Niall’s words, concern painted across his features. “Oh.” Louis replied shortly, sounding as if he was dumbstruck by the news, obviously not having anticipated the fact that the pair were living with each other, a true testament to just how out of the loop that he was. Niall’s pulse thrummed beneath his skin, knowing that things could go horribly wrong now depending on what the other man said next. “You don’t… you don’t happen to be with him right now, do you?” 

“I am, actually.” Niall said softly, knowing instantly from Louis’ slightly curious tone what he had to do. He handed the phone off to Zayn, the raven-haired man’s expression blank as he brought it up to his ear. “Hello? Happy birthday, Louis,” He said cautiously, voice wobbling slightly, clearly anxious about the whole interaction. Niall watched as Zayn stood, padding his way to the other side of the living room, murmuring into the phone, far too quiet for Niall to discern anything.

Niall didn’t mind, though, knowing that this was a battle that the pair would have to work out for themselves, something that was long overdue. He watched Zayn, his heart doing a little backflip in his chest as the other man laughed at something that Louis said on the phone, the corners of his lips lifting up and his eyes crinkling together with the force of it. He looked so content that it made Niall’s chest ache slightly, unbelievably glad that the two would finally be able to get the catharsis that they’d been craving for so long now.

It was then that Niall realized that things weren’t nearly as complex as he once thought they were, knowing with utter certainty that him and Zayn had the strength to make it through just about anything, judging by what they’d already been able to overcome together. And watching Zayn, beaming brilliantly as he spoke to Louis on the phone, Niall knew that everything was going to be okay.


End file.
